Sit, Stay, Feel
by ScapeArtist
Summary: Modern AU: Emma Swan is the owner of Pet Saviors — a dog training/walking/sitting service. Killian Jones, and his dog Gale, are her clients. When Emma & Killian finally meet, the fur flies. (Only part of the epilogue deserves a higher rating than K.) MAIN STORY IS COMPLETE. ANY NEW CHAPTERS ARE PROMPT REQUESTS I AM FILLING.
1. Sick as a dog

"There's my good girl," Emma said as she popped the front seat of her yellow Bug forward and grabbed the leash of the Black Lab jumping out of the back seat.

The dog wagged her entire hindquarters, thumping her tail against the car hard enough that Emma shooed her out of the way so the pup wouldn't hurt herself...or dent her car. She rummaged around in her pocket for the keys to the house, and when she finally separated the right one out from all the others with a loud jingle, she gave the dog a big grin, rubbed her soft, floppy, dark ear and scratched under her chin. "Let's get you inside," she said, nodding to the bungalow-style house they were parked in front of. The two jogged up the driveway to the garage where Emma unlocked the side door. Emma used the garage entrance so she could clean up the dog before heading into the house proper. She always made sure she wiped the dog's feet before going in as a courtesy to the owners — especially after a muddy walk like they just had. As she opened the door, she stopped short.

"Oh! Huh. Looks like I finally get to meet your Daddy, hey girl?" Emma asked, looking over her shoulder at the dog who was trying to push past without success. They squeezed by the vintage black Jeep parked in the usually empty spot, over to the door that lead to the breezeway into the house.

Earlier in the year, Emma Swan had bought out iPet Saviors/i from her boss, Mrs. Lucas, who wanted to retire. Since she started working there almost a decade ago, Emma, who had a real knack for working with dogs, handled most of the dog training while doing a portion of the dog-walking and then pet sitting gigs on the side when she had time. She had been saving up to start her own dog training business, but when Mrs. Lucas started talking about retirement, Emma jumped at the opportunity to take over the whole operation. She loved the (canine) clients they already had and didn't want to lose them to competition, so keeping the company going seemed the right answer. While the day-to-day operations, on top of her training sessions, took up a fair amount of time, there was one dog she just couldn't, well iwouldn't/i, entrust with anyone. That was Gale — the only dog Emma still took for walks regularly and the highlight of her day. They had a connection, Emma and Gale, and she wasn't about to let a little work get in the way of spending time with her best furry girl.

The blonde human and the sleek black canine had been a team since Gale started with Pet Saviors as a 12-week old rambunctious ball of fluff about a year ago. In that whole time, Emma hadn't met Gale's owner. They communicated by notebook — he would leave instructions or training requests and she would write a little something about Gale's day — but they had never crossed paths. Their "conversations" amused Emma more often than not because they frequently pretended to write as if they were Gale. It was silly, but once it (_he_) started there was no going back. Some days those notes were the only thing worth laughing about. Nonetheless, Emma never felt a need to get to know Gale's owner since the whole point of Emma being with Gale was to break up the dog's lonely day and give her the exercise she needed to not be a furniture eating lunatic. People weren't Emma's thing anyway, so notes and the random email worked just fine for Emma and Gale's "Dad," Killian Jones.

Gale let Emma rub the dirty water off her belly and legs with a towel that hung in the garage on a peg just for such occasions, licking her face when Emma was close enough to reach. Emma laughed, teasing the dog about her kisses being the only ones Emma got these days so she was going to enjoy them. Once Gale was all cleaned off, Emma opened the door that into the breezeway and eventually to the kitchen. She released Gale from her leash and hung it on the door knob then closed the door behind her. Gale had already galloped off, barking happily, looking for her Dad.

"Hello?" Emma called out. "Mr. Jones? It's me, Emma Swan, just bringing Gale home from our walk." Given the nautical decor, number of books around the house, and lack of photographs on the walls and surfaces that weren't of Gale in various stages of her growth, she always liked to think Mr. Jones was a retired Naval officer who was a professor now. She pictured him as sort of roundish and balding with a good sense of humor, and given the lack of female touch to the place, very much alone except for Gale. She'd be finding out how right she was soon enough.

Emma toed off her sneakers just to be sure she didn't track in any mud herself across the spic-and-span hardwood floors and walked across the kitchen to peek around the corner of the doorway into the rest of the house. Down the hall to the left, Gale sat in front of a door, the tip of her tail swishing across the floor in short arcs. Emma took a few steps toward the dog and stopped when she heard retching coming from behind the closed door. Wincing, she quietly motioned to Gale to come away from the door, but she wouldn't budge. Instead she gave a short bark and wagged her tail harder.

Sighing, Emma walked over to the door and when the retching stopped, said loudly, "Mr. Jones? It's Emma Swan, Gale's dog walker. Are you ok in there?"

"Aye," he said. A beat later there was another retch and a cough followed by, "Perhaps."

"Do you need to go to the hospital?" she asked, ear pressed to the door, wondering if she was going to have to kick it in to get to him if he said 'yes.'

"No, love. I just need to stop throwing up." Emma could not have agreed more. As a secondary thought, she made note of his British accent that managed to make discussing vomiting sound charming. Definitely an impressive feat.

"Uh, ok...Listen, I have to get back to my office for a training session, but I'll be back later to take care of Gale so you can rest. Is that ok?" Emma didn't know what possessed her to make the offer, but she did anyway.

"No need...oh bloody hell," he groaned and then threw up again. Emma tapped her foot, impatient to finish the conversation before she started throwing up too in what had the potential to be the worst first meeting in history. Gale looked up at her with her most winning doggie grin and wagged harder, her tail smacking the door. "Actually, if you could, I would be in your debt," he said, obviously having reconsidered her offer after his conversation with the toilet.

"No worries. I'll be back later. Gale should be good until then, so don't worry about her. I ran her hard today so she'll just sleep."

"Thank you, Ms. Swan," his tired voice rumbled through the door.

Leaning over, Emma scratched the top of Gale's head and kissed her nose. "You be a good girl for your Dad, Ok?" Gale returned the kiss and curled up outside the bathroom door as Emma walked away.

~.~

After a rather...challenging obedience lesson with a construction foreman, Leroy, and his Bulldog, Grumpy, Emma wrapped up the day's paperwork and stopped by Mrs. Lucas' to pick up some chicken soup. Emma had called her ahead of time to get the scoop on Killian Jones since Mrs. Lucas had the advantage of actually meeting him when he first hired them to train and walk Gale. "Granny," as Emma liked to call her, assured her that Mr. Jones was "a good man. Bit of a rapscallion, but he loves his dog, so he can't be that bad." That was good enough for Emma. She also told Emma to come by for the soup because she knew he lived alone and probably would not be interested in cooking anything for himself to help him recover. Since Emma's own cooking skills were limited to opening packages of pop tarts and picking up take out coffee, she could totally understand the appeal of homemade soup when feeling under the weather. Besides, Granny's was on the way.

So, soup in hand, Emma let herself into the house and was greeted by a howling and very wiggly Gale.

"Shhh, Gale! Let your Dad sleep, ok? I know. I'm happy to see you again today too!" Emma said in an enthusiastic whisper. She put the soup down on the counter and knelt to pet the dog and calm her down.

"Must be dinner time for you, huh, good girl?" At the word "dinner" Gale's ears perked as much as droopy ears can and she stopped wiggling, sitting still in anticipation. Emma grabbed the dog's bowl from the stand it sat in and scooped out some kibble from the closed container near it, and then went to the fridge to get the raw meat she knew Gale also ate and mixed them together. Still sitting pretty, the drool began dripping from Gale's mouth to the floor.

Emma chuckled and shook her head. "Oh, Gale. Must you be so stereotypical? You're better than that." Dinner preparations complete, Emma placed the bowl back in its stand and, after a few seconds of intense Jedi dog mind tricks to be released from her sit, gave Gale the go-ahead to eat. Tail wagging the whole time, Gale munched away.

"Is that you, Ms. Swan?" the low, rough voice of Gale's owner called out from the living room.

"Sure is, Mr. Jones. I'm just feeding Gale. How are you feeling?" she inquired.

"Better, thanks, love. And, please, call me Killian. Still have all my internal organs where they belong, so I'm pretty sure I'll live."

Smiling to herself, Emma stood in the doorway between the kitchen and living room waiting for Gale to finish her dinner. She still couldn't see his face, but she could see some tousled black hair — practically the same color as Gale's — sticking out at one end of the leather couch. "It did seem a bit touch-and-go there," she teased. "I'm going to let Gale out into the yard and then I'll be back," she continued.

Opening the door to the breezeway, she slid the glass door that lead to the back deck of the fenced-in yard and let Gale out to take care of business. Returning to the kitchen, she found a bowl in one of the glass-paned cabinets, poured some soup in it and heated it up in the microwave while she rummaged around until she found some crackers to go with it. Balancing the soup, crackers, and a glass of water, Emma returned to the living room and walked around the couch to bring Mr. Jones...Killian some dinner.

When Emma finally laid (her comically wide) eyes on Gale's Dad, she almost dropped the soup right to the floor. He was pale with dark circles under his eyes from being sick, but _holy shit, those eyes_. Comparing them with the color of the sky or sea didn't do them justice. Framed by thick, dark brows and lashes that made him look like he was wearing eyeliner, the clarity and depth of his eyes was...arresting. But they were the icing on, quite frankly, the most gorgeous cake she'd ever seen. He was absolutely not an aging, slightly out-of-shape college prof. If anything, he was just a few years older than she was and most definitely not soft. Suddenly she understood what Granny's smirk and wink meant when she sent Emma on her way earlier.

Hoping she wasn't actually staring at him in spite of her overwhelming desire to for the next 50 years, Emma smiled at Killian and set down the soup, crackers and water on the coffee table in front of him. He was a client and she couldn't forget that even though she was already stretching the rules of professionalism by taking care of Gale after hours, never mind her owner. Still lying down and covered in a dark blue blanket, Killian smiled weakly back at Emma as he slowly sat up, his hand resting on his stomach as if to hold it in.

"Mrs. Lucas thought you could use some of her chicken soup."

"Please thank her for me, Ms. Swan?" he asked.

"It's Emma. And I will," she said, perching on the arm of the chair opposite putting as much distance between them as she could without looking rude.

"My apologies for meeting like this. I really appreciate you coming over to take care of my Gale for me. I wasn't expecting any special treatment myself. Thank you," Killian said earnestly, meeting her eyes with a look of gratitude Emma had only ever seen in dogs. It was a genuine sincerity that few people could pull off — she knew because she had seen them try and fail before. It threw her off.

Breaking eye-contact, Emma smiled nervously and stood up, flipping her long hair behind her. "I'll go see if Gale's ready to come in. Be right back."

Heading to the deck door to let Gale in, Emma needed to take a couple of deep breaths and separate her body's reaction to the smoking hot guy on the couch (_How can anyone look that hot when they had just spent the day puking?_ she thought) from the fact that technically she was in his employ. She didn't get into this business to meet people, although they certainly came with the dogs she cared for. She did it because the one lesson she learned in this life was that dogs were loyal and people were most definitely not. She loved the dogs and wanted them to have good lives — lives they deserved considering how much love they gave. Even though the majority of the owners were kind people, she just never really gave a shit about any of them beyond making sure the dogs were never mistreated. She wasn't about to change that now. No matter how blue their eyes were, or how the way they said "love" so casually made her heart flutter.

Gale gave a short bark, breaking Emma out of her anti-pep talk. She slid the glass door open letting the dog in, and ran her hands over the shiny fur as she trotted past to go to her Dad. Stopping at the doorway to the living room, the dog stopped and looked back at Emma, wagging her tail and waiting.

Emma smiled at the dog and said, "Ok, ok, I won't leave yet." She followed Gale back to the living room where she found Killian laying back down on the couch, sound asleep on his side, soup barely touched. Gale hopped up on the couch and curled up behind Killian's knees in a way she obviously did regularly, resting her head on his thigh. He shifted in his sleep and his hand came out from under the blanket and rested on the back of Gale's neck, both of them sighing in unison. Emma tilted her head and smiled at the dog, leaning over to stroke her back softly so she wouldn't wake Killian. Watching the two of them for a moment more, so perfectly matched, Emma's heart ached in her chest.

"You're a sweet girl," Emma whispered. "Be good. I'll see you tomorrow."


	2. Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

Killian woke as first light was chasing away the darkness. He was overheated and damp, but shivering and still a touch queasy, which was not reassuring at all. Gale, who stayed with him on the couch all night, had managed to roll on to her back, her two front paws sticking straight up in the air and her hind legs pushed against his back. As she twitched in her sleep, flexing her toes, he made a mental note to get her nails clipped soon because she was going to leave a mark. Not wanting to rouse his pup quite so early, Killian inched out from under the blanket to sit on the edge of the couch, trying not to make any sudden moves that would wake her or whatever vile serpent lay coiled in his belly waiting to ruin this day, too.

He stretched, loosening up the cramped muscles of his torso, then ran his hands through his dark hair, separating the sweaty patches along his temples and neck. He reflexively massaged his stiff left hand and forearm, the raised scars a map to someplace he'd much rather forget, and the early morning ache and weakness the road signs that wouldn't let him. His mouth tasted like the 18th circle of hell, and when he finally cleared his eyes, he saw the tall glass of water on the coffee table with a note next to it. He went for the water first, trying to remember not to gulp it down too quickly, then picked up the note.

_Hope your internal organs don't try to escape again today! I put the soup in the fridge when you feel good enough again to eat. I'll be by around lunchtime to walk Gale like always._

_Take care! _  
_E._

So he wasn't hallucinating or dreaming he'd met Emma Swan last night. Killian had been so worn out that everything after he collapsed on the couch, post puke-fest, felt far away and slightly unreal. He remembered feeling grateful for her assistance and surprise that she wasn't a college kid, but that's where his recollection ended..._well, not quite_. It really ended with him wanting to gaze into her pale green eyes for a while longer, but he pushed that thought aside quickly. She was Gale's dog walker for chrissake. If she wasn't a student, Killian wondered how she could be supporting herself walking dogs. No way a fun job like that payed well. He thought he would start putting a little more in the check he sent in each month for Gale's fees. Certainly someone who went out of her way as she had for him — so unexpectedly — deserved more.

He looked over at Gale and rubbed her belly lightly causing her tail to thump softly against his thigh. Killian smiled at his girl and whispered, "You could have at least told me she was pretty, you know."

Gale flopped over onto her side and graced Killian with a sideways look he was sure meant "You never asked, idiot." She curled up into a doughnut, as Killian liked to call the circle she wrapped herself into, then sighed, falling back to sleep. He wished he had that talent because it was way too early to be up and snuggling with Gale always sounded like the better plan. But up he was, and nauseous or not, he needed to get into work today. With the warm weather finally in full swing, the marina was a busy place, and being harbormaster didn't allow for too much time away during regular hours regardless of how much better a day on the couch with Gale would be. The weekend was around the bend and he would have plenty of time to hang out with her then.

Finally rising, Killian padded to his room and grabbed some clean clothes, then made his way to the bathroom and into a steaming hot shower he hoped would wash away the vestiges of the horrible lunchtime mistake he made eating leftover supermarket sushi. Never again would he eat sushi from a container no matter how hungry or how rushed — restaurants only from now on. Maybe with a pretty blonde who liked dogs. _Easy there, mate_, he warned, _getting a little ahead of yourself, don't you think?_ Still, her kindness touched him. It had been longer than he cared to contemplate since someone did something nice for him, or helped him, because they wanted to and not because they wanted something in return from him.

Of course she was probably only helping him because of Gale. It had nothing to do with him, not really. They didn't know each other outside of the notebook they shared full of rather silly messages from the dog. Still, something about her felt..._familiar._ Like she fit. There was no other way he could explain it, but it didn't matter. He barely remembered their meeting, how could he be sure of the feeling he was left with? Regardless, it nestled itself into his chest. The last time he felt something with such certainty was when he picked out Gale from her litter. She just felt right. But Emma was a person not a dog, and the idea that she could be right for him was madness.

Gale was waiting for him outside the bathroom door all wagging tail and loud "_aroo_" reminding Killian it was time for her breakfast — as if he'd ever forget. "Yes, love, I know. I'm still moving slow. Forgive me?" he asked as he leaned down and planted a kiss on her cold, wet nose and scratching under her chin. She licked him, a solid swipe along _his_ nose, then nudged her head under his hand so he could stroke the top of her head.

"Alright, Galene, my queen, lets go see what's for breakfast," he said as they headed down the hall and into the kitchen where Gale stationed herself prettily, and very still, next to her bowl.

"That's an impressive sit, lass. You must be especially hungry this morning," Killian commented as he added a healthy scoop of meat to her bowl of kibble. Gale answered him with a tiny wag of the tip of her tail and a long string of drool from her mouth. Killian chuckled and stood before her with the bowl in hand. "It's the same meal every time, love, how can you be that excited?"

While Gale happily wolfed down her breakfast, Killian threw some bread in the toaster. He was pretty sure that was all he could manage this morning no matter how much his stomach was growling earlier. As he went to open the fridge to get the butter out, Killian realized it was time to flip the page on the "Age of Sail" calendar he had hanging on the refrigerator door. A heavy, red line encircled the 20th without any other indication of what was happening that day. It didn't need anything else because he knew. Unconsciously, his right hand went to his left forearm where he thumbed over the scars, pressing down to feel every ridge and buckle in the skin. He'd not forgotten this day was coming so much as he'd been avoiding thinking about it all together. But here it was only a few short weeks away. Killian had spent the last several years occupying his mind, distracting him from his past, by throwing himself into work, getting his citizenship, and then raising Gale, but this...impending event never left his thoughts. Not really. He dreaded and welcomed it in equal parts.

An insistent pressure against his thigh broke him from his less-than-pleasant reverie. He looked down to see Gale sitting close to him — practically on his foot — pushing her head into his leg as she looked up at him intensely with her light brown eyes. Killian reached down with his scarred hand and slid it along the silky fur of her ears and neck to remind himself that there was more than pain to feel from that arm.

"Right, love. Ready to go out? I've got some time for a little fetch. Whatdya say?"

At the word "fetch," Gale's ears perked, she stood on her hind legs, and did a little hop toward the back door before dropping her feet to the floor again. Killian laughed and Gale squeezed through the doorway before he'd barely gotten it halfway open. He let her out into the fenced-in yard first and then grabbed the Chuck-it and tennis ball. They played for about 15 minutes, enjoying the cool morning, until Gale refused to give the ball back and just lay in the dewy grass, panting. He left her there while he finally grabbed his toast, distractedly gathered up what he needed for work, then went out to the garage and tossed it in his Jeep.

He returned to the deck door and watched Gale as she sniffed around the yard, looking up at the shade tree for chittering squirrels and scattering birds looking for their breakfast, and he wondered if maybe taking more time off wouldn't be such a bad idea after all. Surely, Mr. Smee could handle another day in charge while Killian continued to recover. But then he remembered his meeting with the Deputy Mayor and sighed. That was nothing he wanted to leave in Mr. Smee's hands at all. To work it was then. No "accidental" meetings with dog walkers today. _Shame that_. Even their brief and hazy visit told Killian she was far more interesting company than Deputy Mayor Glass.

"Come along, my sweet girl. Time for me to get to work," Killian called out to Gale. She looked to him at the sound of his voice and wagged her tail as she trotted up the stairs and into the house.

As she did every morning, Gale hopped up on the built-in seat at the large front window to keep an eye on things. Killian followed her and scratched her neck with both hands. "You be a good girl for the lovely Ms. Swan today. Tell her I said hello, OK?" Gale thumped her tail and shook her fur back into place when he released her.

Reluctantly making his way to the Jeep after stopping to pick up dog toys and drinking one more glass of water, Killian finally left the house. Backing out of the driveway, Killian admired his neighbor's peony bushes that bordered their front yards. They were covered in blossoms in all stages of blooming — in shades of white, pale pink, and bright magenta — their petals opening like fireworks on a summer's night. Like fireworks, he thought, they were best shared.

Killian hit the breaks, put his car in park, and got out. He realized he had forgotten something after all.


	3. Old Dog New Trick

**A/N: Thanks to everyone for their reviews for the other two chapters. I really appreciate them! I hope you enjoy this chapter too. :) There are more notes at the end with some references for different things you'll read about, so be sure to read them. Thanks again! ~SA**

* * *

Emma entered the garage a little disappointed not to see the Jeep parked there, but also a bit relieved too. While she wouldn't have minded putting eyes on Killian Jones again, she had zero desire to witness a repeat performance of his...hurling skills, so the trade-off was still in her favor. Through the window in the back door, she waved to Gale who was standing in the kitchen, wagging her tail broadly, her relaxed, open mouth showing several of her bright, white teeth and a fair amount of long, pink tongue. As she opened the door and stepped through the doorway, Gale howled happily and trotted over to rub up against Emma's legs so she could pet and hug Gale as she did each day.

On the counter where she and Mr. Jones..._Killian, he said to call him Killian_...kept the notebook they corresponded through, was an empty tennis ball canister now overflowing with beautiful white, pink, and magenta peonies. She couldn't remember the last time anyone gave her flowers — in fact she'd be hard pressed to remember _ever_ getting flowers. She buried her nose in the blossoms and relished the softness of the petals tickling her cheeks. They were lovely and Emma continued smiling as she read the note.

_Hi Emma!_

_Thanks for coming back to take care of me last night — I picked these flowers special for you this morning! Hope you like them. They come highly recommended by our neighbors. My dad would like to thank you for your kindness, too. He's taking me out on our boat this weekend and wanted me to invite you along. He says I'd make a good first mate if it weren't for the whole opposable thumb problem. No idea what that means...Anyway please come for a sail with us!_

_xo,_  
_Gale_

_PS. If you do feel like coming, meet us at the marina on Saturday around 3pm. Our boat is in the first berth close to my office. Hope to see you!_  
_KJ_

_PPS. Wear layers._

Gale sat quietly in front of Emma while she read the note, lazily swishing her tail along the floor. Emma looked down at her, eyebrows raised, impressed.

"Like to sail, do you, Galeforce?" Emma asked. Gale hit her on the leg with her front paw then looked at the door. "That I'd like to see...maybe I _will_ go," Emma said, seriously considering the offer. "In the meantime, wanna take a walk with a landlubber?"

At the word "walk," Gale headed straight to the door and stood there waiting while Emma gathered up her leash, checked her pockets for treats and poop bags, and grabbed the flowers. The two high-tailed it out to the car, and on the way, Emma noticed the bushes near the garage side neighbor's with several patches bereft of flowers. She chuckled to herself, shaking her head as she pictured Killian sneaking out to pilfer flowers for her in the early morning quiet. She kept her bouquet mostly hidden from view just in case said neighbors ventured out because she didn't want to start some kind of feud between them no matter how much Killian probably deserved it.

They drove off to Emma's favorite place — a nearby lake with trails that wove around it where Gale liked to run ahead, sniffing everything and lingering over some spots like people do over certain newspaper articles in the morning. Emma hiked to her preferred little beach area that was enclosed by trees with a single, narrow path leading to it. She sat and ate her lunch on a big, flat rock while enjoying not just the calming placid lake, but the utter lack of people to intrude upon her quiet time. Exactly what she needed to reset her day after dealing with the human contingent of her business. They were far less predictable than dogs and more often than not, she scrambled for proper responses that didn't include massive amounts of eye rolling or groaning in frustration. She found people trying to say the least.

She pulled her Chuck-it and tennis ball from her backpack and tossed the bright yellow ball out in the water for Gale to swim out and fetch. Emma herself hadn't felt joy in her own life, but when she was in the woods with Gale, watching her romp and swim with abandon, she knew exactly what joy _looked_ like and she craved it for herself. As much as she loved Gale, living vicariously through her was not her longterm goal in life. There were many days when her time with Gale was the only occasion she smiled in any given 24-hour period, and she considered those breaks precious. So being asked to spend a little extra time with Gale was a tough offer to pass up. If it were any other dog, she would have made her excuses even though it wasn't often she got to see her dogs with their owners outside of training sessions. She thought observing Killian and Gale together could help her approach clients' questions and every day problems with better insight. Emma decided she would look at this excursion as if it were research...a way to improve her people skills and her business even if the little voice she liked to bury under layers of mental sediment was hoping it was a date.

~.~

Saturday afternoon, just shy of 3:00, Emma walked past the Harbormaster's office building and onto the docks of the marina. The weather was gorgeous — full sun, light breeze to chase away the heat, cloudless sky, and what looked like calm water from what she could see as she drove over the causeway earlier. The parking lot was half full and there were several people about, heading to and from the boats moored in tight quarters. She didn't have to search for Gale's boat because as soon as she stepped onto the wooden platform, Emma heard Gale bark, and, before she knew it, the dog had run down what looked like a special ladder, just for her, off the boat and right up to Emma, tale wagging furiously. Emma couldn't help but laugh and get down to rub Gale's neck and share a few sloppy dog kisses.

"Hey, girl! Yes, it's me! I know! I know! I'm out of context. I'm happy to see you too!" she crooned to the dog, rubbing and scratching Gale as she turned in excited circles around Emma.

A much smoother, cheerful version of Killian Jones' voice than what she'd heard a few nights prior through the bathroom door interrupted Gale's enthusiastic greeting. "Ms. Swan! Decided to join us after all? Wonderful! Gale, sweet, let Ms. Swan by now. There's a good girl."

Killian stood in the cockpit of his boat, leaning over the rail, looking like he stepped out of some yuppy yachting magazine. He wore khaki shorts that showed off tanned, lean calves, a long-sleeve, navy, button down shirt that was, in fact, unbuttoned enough to show off a tantalizing patch of black chest hair. But that was not nearly as distracting as those eyes of his. Between the dark shirt and the bright day, Emma thought her previous assessment of "arresting" wasn't nearly accurate enough when describing his eyes. "Dangerous" was more like it because she was sure she could drown in them without even trying. She swallowed thickly and waved as she walked over to the boat, Gale running ahead.

"Welcome aboard, love," Killian greeted her with a roguish smile (strangely reminiscent of the one Gale always greeted her with) that revealed a dimple in one cheek, and his hand out to help her up the extra steep step onto the deck of the boat. She reached up, taking his hand, which was warm and strong, and began to haul herself up. She met his eyes and felt a wave of excited anticipation rolling through her, causing her to hesitate. _Oh, god, what am I doing here?_ she thought, unable to break eye-contact with Killian. Gale, who was already there waiting on deck, reminded Emma exactly why she was there as she managed to sneak in a kiss just as Emma was eye-level with her, licking away any uncertainty she had in an instant.

"Gale! Manners! We don't kiss our guests before they've even boarded. Bad form!" Killian scolded the black dog as she wagged at them both oblivious to his admonition. Now with both feet on the deck, Emma steadied herself against the slight roll of the boat as she laughed and wiped her face.

"When exactly _do_ you kiss your guests then?" Emma asked, smirking as she took in the look of exasperation on Killian's face aimed at Gale.

He turned to her, eyebrow raised, exasperation melting into amusement. "Guess we'll just have to wait and see, won't we, love?" Killian answered with a wink. Emma's stomach flipped and before she could offer him some reading material for the wait, he changed subjects. "Gale and I were just running through our checklist so we could embark on today's adventure. Why don't you stow your bag below deck and then come back up and have a seat? We should be ready to make sail in a few minutes."

Unable to resist, Emma saluted, said "Aye, aye, Captain!" and ducked down through the bulkhead doorway behind the helm of the boat. She climbed down a short staircase into a cabin area, the gleaming teak wood paneling and crimson accents of the furniture coverings creating a warmth she was unprepared for. This was more like a home and not anything like the boat in Jaws (_thank God_), which was the only one she could picture, having never been on a boat before. There was bench seating on either side of the cabin — one side with a small table for eating, an abbreviated desk area on the other. Just beyond the seats where she deposited her bag, was a small galley with a stove and bar refrigerator, all neat and uncluttered, so unlike her apartment at the moment. Unable to stop herself from exploring the compact living quarters, she moved through the cabin and past the tiny bathroom, complete with shower, and into the stateroom with its full size bed and built-in storage. The bed was covered in a deep red and navy blue plaid quilt with more than a few pillows padding the head of it.

Emma hung in the doorway, her mouth open in amazement at the compactness of it all. "Wonder how many mermaids he's brought back here?" she said to herself.

"Mermaids aren't real, love, and they certainly don't have the legs to board my ship," Killian's bemused voice came from way too close. Emma closed her eyes and scrunched her nose in embarrassment. She really needed to learn to stop talking out loud to herself.

Emma turned to find him standing right behind her, half a grin peeking out from behind the hand that was stroking his beard, blue eyes twinkling at her curiosity over his love life. If she could have turned to sea foam and dissolved into the waves, she would have.

"Unless her name is Ariel, of course," she said, quickly trying to recover from not just her embarrassment, but his closeness. The man was utterly disarming.

Killian paused to consider, and said, "Mmm...well, in all my years at sea, I've yet to run across an Ariel. Or an Ursula for that matter. Only one to share that bed with me is Gale, I'm afraid, and she's a jealous lass, that one."

"Gale?!" Emma asked incredulously.

"Aye. Ever since I adopted her, she has done her best to make sure I don't date. She loves to misbehave for the ladies. Knocked one of my dates clear overboard before we'd even gotten out of the harbor. She stole the meal off the plate of another during dinner, and the last date I brought around, she managed to get her somehow extra filthy paws all over the poor woman, ruining her new outfit. Needless to say, I don't get many second dates," he concluded, shaking his head.

Emma couldn't help but laugh. That was not the Gale she knew at all. "No shit, huh? Well, you know what they say about dogs, they can see the true character in people. Maybe Gale sensed they weren't right for you."

Killian tilted his head and gazed at Emma, pressing his lips together for a moment as he considered her observation — and her. "Mmm. Perhaps," he said. Emma looked away, heat — and no doubt the deep pink that went with it — climbing up into her cheeks as he pinned her there with a single look. He took a step back and told her, "I came down to let you know my ill-mannered dog and I are ready to set sail if you are."

Emma nodded and Killian bowed, ushering her toward the stairs leading up to the cockpit. She squeezed by him, barely a hand's length between them, her understanding of the phrase "close quarters" taking on new, practically electric, meaning, and made her way up the steps only to be licked across the face again by Gale who was waiting less than patiently for her. Laughing, Emma ruffled the dog's ears and said, "We really need to stop meeting like this, Gale."

"Got you again, did she?" Killian asked from below as he, too climbed up the steps. Gale repeated her greeting with him then hopped up on the seat and sat, tongue hanging loosely out of her mouth. "That's my fault. It's sort of a...thing we do. She's never done that with anyone else though. Sorry, love. "

"Doesn't bother me. She kisses me all the time," Emma said as she took her seat next to Gale, petting the dog absently while Killian stood in front of the console by the wheel and started up the boat. Over the chug of the engine, he called to Emma as he held out a bright orange bundle, "Oh, Ms. Swan, one more thing. Would you be so kind as to put this life jacket on Gale, please?"

"Sure," she said, taking the jacket from him and slipping it around the now standing Gale, who obviously knew what was to be done, adjusting the straps so they were snug. "There, missy. You look...safe," she said with a approving nod. Gale just wagged her tail, then sat back down next to Emma, putting her paw on her arm to remind Emma she was in need of petting again.

"Off we go, then!" Killian said, smiling at Emma.

He pulled the boat from its berth and maneuvered past the other vessels docked nearby with ease and precision, his 30-foot sailboat dwarfed by many of the other yachts they passed. Once beyond the last of the boats moored at that particular dock, they navigated around a few even bigger ships anchored farther out. Free of boat traffic finally, Killian took her up the coastline a little ways, pointing out places she didn't even know existed in this town. There was much more history than she'd given the sleepy seaport credit for having, and Killian's accent made it far more interesting to listen to than it probably was.

Watching him captain the boat was something to behold, too. The easy confidence he gave off as the boat cut through the water was so much like watching a joyous Gale in the woods, that her heart ached with longing to feel that same joy for herself, jealousy that he had it, and admiration at how beautiful he looked while obviously feeling it. He never seemed concerned, and smiled contentedly as he showed her around the part of the coast he managed on a daily basis. She knew this had to be his "happy place" and if she stayed out here much longer it might just become hers too.

Her brief history lesson complete, Killian sailed them over to a spot with a picturesque view of the town: white church spires poking into the blue sky, old maples and oaks dotting the landscape softening the encroaching modern high rises off in the distance, all backlit by the sun, which was just beginning its slant down into sunset. The surface of the water glittered like treasure and Emma sighed at the beauty of it all. She spent so much time working and avoiding people, she had no idea that the place she had lived in for the last several years had a side so breathtaking. She could get used to this.

Killian cut the engine to the boat, surprising Emma.

"Is this where you kill me and dump my body in the ocean?" she asked sarcastically.

Killian bristled. Stiffly, and with a forced smile, he said, "No, lass. This is where I go down below and get us something to eat while we enjoy the view and let Gale have some swim time."

"Oh. Ok." Emma responded softly, feeling like she had tread someplace she shouldn't have.

Releasing a deep breath through his nose, and relaxing his smile to something far more genuine, Killian asked Emma, "Do me a favor, love? Reach into that cupboard under your seat and pull out the flat thing, would you?"

Emma unlatched the door to the storage beneath the bench and found what Killian requested and passed it over to him, curious about what it could be.

"Come along, Swan, and give me a hand. I'm sure you'll love this. It's Gale's favorite thing when we sail."

Emma followed Killian to the port side deck, Gale hot on her heels in anticipation. Pushing his sleeves up out of the way, Killian unfolded the board and snapped a few bars into place around the edges to keep it from folding back up and then leaned it over the deck into the water. He bent down and nodded for Emma to join him. Kneeling, she followed his movements as they secured to the boat what turned out to be a floating dock for Gale to get in and out of the water on her own. Watching him check to make sure it was correctly placed, she saw a long, jagged scar running up his left forearm and smaller lighter scars criss-crossing his palm.

He must have caught her concerned look, because he swiftly pushed his sleeves back down, hiding the rough marks, pretending he didn't see her looking. She wanted to ask him where he got them, but now was obviously not the time. Whatever caused those scars must have been painful in more ways than one, and he didn't look to be in a sharing mood. If anyone understood hidden scars of the mental kind it was Emma.

Clearing his throat, he offered Emma his hand to help her up, which she took gratefully, as she was still a bit wobbly moving about the boat.

"I believe, in that same cupboard, is a Chuck-it and some tennis balls if you would be so kind as to entertain my girl while I prepare our supper."

For the next fifteen minutes or so, Emma lobbed tennis balls off the deck of the boat and watched Gale happily swim out to get them. She was in awe of the little dock attachment every time Gale used it to bring her the ball to throw again. She could totally get why Gale loved this. And Killian was right, she loved it too. Being Gale was most definitely not a bad thing.

Soon, he joined her again, letting Emma know the food was ready, towel in hand to dry off Gale. They pulled in the dock after Gale re-boarded and let it sit to dry while they ate. At the little table between the benches, Killian had laid out a platter with meats, cheeses, fruit and vegetables, along with a loaf of crusty bread. Handing her an ale from a bucket full of ice and beer he brought up, they both tucked in. Emma hadn't realized just how hungry she was until she saw all the food, because suddenly her stomach was growling loud enough to alert a kracken of their presence. Even Gale had her meal with them, happily munching away nearby.

Between bites of bread and cheese, Killian asked, "So, Emma, how long have you been with Pet Saviors?"

"Mmm...I started about 10 years ago after I...when Mrs. Lucas hired me to help with the dog training because she wanted to expand the business. Since I took over though, I think I spend more time on paperwork than anything else," Emma answered.

"So, wait..._You_ own Pet Saviors? I thought Mrs. Lucas...?"

"She retired...Didn't you read the notice we sent out a few months ago?" Emma asked, a tinge of annoyance creeping into the question.

"Perhaps..." he said obviously trying to remember such a letter and coming up blank.

Emma saw right through him. "Liar," she teased.

Killian looked completely chagrined. He half shrugged and said again with more certainty and laughing in return, "Perhaps." Leaning forward, he apologized. "Sorry, love. Sometimes I lose track of things, and since the name didn't change and my fees stayed the same, I didn't notice. That was bad form. I promise to read everything you send home with Gale from now on."

Emma waved her hand dismissing his promise. "No, no, I'm sure you aren't the only one. It's ok."

"So if you are running things now, how do you have time to still walk Gale?" Killian asked, looking somewhat puzzled.

Smiling at Gale who had curled up on the bench next to Killian, she said wistfully, "I just couldn't give her up. She's very special to me. I can't explain it, really. She and I, we just...connected."

"Aye, I know exactly what you mean," Killian replied, looking directly at Emma, making her heart speed up and trip over itself.

She gave a little cough and broke eye contact before she couldn't speak at all. "So where did you get her?" she asked trying to steer the conversation back to something safe, back to Gale.

"My best mate, David, runs the local animal shelter —"

"David Nolan?" Emma interrupted with surprise.

"Aye. You know him too?" Killian asked.

"Yeah, of course! I do regular training sessions at the shelter for new adoptees and their parents. He sends people my way, too, for walks and sitting."

"Aye, he's the one who suggested I hire you all to help take care of Gale."

"Huh. Small world just got a whole lot smaller," she said. She shouldn't have been surprised because now that she thought of it, David had talked occasionally about his friend Killian. She just never made the connection. "I'm sorry. I totally interrupted you. You were saying about Gale?..."

"Right. Well, one of the abandoned dogs they had at the shelter was pregnant, and when she gave birth, David called me. He told me it was time to quit my workaholic ways and find a pretty young lass to spend my time with instead. Said he had just the girl for me."

"Sure he wasn't talking about a real person?" Emma said with a snort.

"I don't think he notices females that aren't four-legged," Killian supposed with a smirk.

Emma almost choked on her beer. "Oh, shit, don't tell his wife that!"

"Well, there are always exceptions to any rule, love."

"So why the name Gale?" Emma asked, genuinely curious. "Gotta thing for strong wind?"

Killian shook his head and put his hand on Gale's head, rubbing his thumb over her forehead between her eyes, making her sigh. "Not exactly. Quite the opposite, really. She's actually Galene — named after the Greek goddess of calm seas."

"She is pretty mellow for a Lab, I have to say. Good choice," Emma said, impressed.

"Naming her that was more like a wish for myself than it was a prediction of her temperament," Killian explained with a seriousness that hit Emma in the gut.

Emma looked down thoughtfully for a moment. "I can understand that," she commiserated.

Leaning forward, Killian met her eyes and held them steady to his for a few beats and she could feel herself being pulled in by that brilliant blue undertow. Voice soft and low, he asked, "And what do you wish for, Emma Swan?"

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**A/N pt 2: The boat that Killian owns is a Nonsuch 30-foot Ultra sail boat that can be manned by one person. If you want to see what one looks like, Google is your friend. The dock he uses for Gale to fetch from while out sailing is a real thing called a Doggydock and is put out by PupGear if you want to see that too. Also, the steps he uses for her to get on and off the boat while docked and the life jacket are real as well. Again, Google is your friend. :)**


	4. Dog Eared

**A/N: So, wow! Thanks everyone for all the wonderful feedback! I really appreciate it and I'm so glad you are enjoying my little tail...I mean tale! **

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The forthright way Emma admitted understanding his wish for calm seas in his life made Killian realize that his initial feeling about her — that she somehow _fit_ — was no hazy dream. He could see that same rough edge in her that he felt in himself, the one born of surviving whatever trials the universe doled out, but always with the caveat that survival meant being alone, and often in a dark space. During the few years before adopting Gale, everything in his life was dim and hidden in shadowy corners. The light that furry little creature brought with her helped him see so many things he'd forgotten he was capable of — laughter, warmth, compassion — but when Emma Swan stepped aboard, it was as if someone had finished turning the dimmer switch up until the room was flooded with light and color. Finally, he was seeing _everything_.

"And what do _you_ wish for, Emma Swan?" Killian asked.

He couldn't help but notice the slight hitch in Emma's breath as her pale green eyes widened briefly at his question. She stared back at him, eyebrows gently rising, mouth opening to give him an answer, only to be overtaken by a small shiver a half second later, interrupting and shutting down her desire to share.

"My sweater," she answered, smiling tightly, "it's getting chilly." With that, she stood up and made her way below deck, leaving Killian sitting there, slumped back in his seat, arm around Gale who was lightly snoring, her fur still a touch damp from swimming. _Brilliant_, he thought to himself. _Next time just ask her how many kids she'd like. Idiot_.

He took a swig of his beer and looked out over the horizon, shunting aside his irritation with himself for obviously pushing her. The golden light from the sun's descent was becoming more intense until he thought it rivaled the color of Emma's flaxen hair. When she finally returned, wearing a long, black, collared cardigan over her heather gray t-shirt, he could confirm it. The sun's last hurrah before its final fade into twilight brought out every facet of her golden hair and began adding a few new colors — a pale pink and a creamy orange that illuminated her face and made her eyes shine. If David were here, he'd accuse Killian of being smitten and he'd be hard-pressed to argue against it.

"You don't look much like a pirate," Emma said without preamble, sitting back down on the bench as she plucked a strawberry from the plate between them and bit into it.

Killian stiffened for the briefest of moments and tilted his head, confused, as he said, "Come again?"

"Your boat," she said, pointing aft over the edge. "It's named 'The Jolly Roger,' right? That's the name I saw painted on it. You're missing the perm and waxed mustache to be captaining a boat called 'The Jolly Roger.'"

Killian relaxed and chuckled. "Aye, I suppose I am."

Emma shrugged briefly, waiting for an answer. "So? What's up with the name? Just a fan of the lifestyle or do you suffer from Peter Pan syndrome?"

"No, actually," Killian said, shaking his head, "it's my poor attempt at dark humor."

"I'm intrigued. How so?" Emma asked, her head canted and eyes narrowed as she considered him.

"Are you sure, darling?" Killian asked, a warning in his tone. "We're having a lovely afternoon and this is not the kind of story you tell someone on the first—" he stopped short realizing the direction he was taking.

Emma raised an eyebrow, "First _what_?"

"First _sail_. First _anything_, really," Killian said, his hand waving off any deeper meaning she might be questioning.

"I'm a big girl. Pretty sure I can handle it."

"Very well," Killian sighed, unsure _he_ could handle it not having prepared himself for this conversation quite yet. He stroked Gale's fur as she snuggled up against him on the bench, head on his lap while he fondled her silky ear, lost in thought. He'd never opened up to anyone so quickly before, but Emma, it seemed, was not anyone else.

Finally, he cleared his throat and met Emma's expectant gaze, schooling his own expression, trying to hide the grief he would never stop feeling from what he was about to share. She must have seen it anyway, because her own expression changed...softened...and he had to look somewhere else or witness his pain reflected back at him in some sort of fun house mirror from hell. Instead, he watched another boat on its course back toward the harbor, and began his story.

"My older brother, Liam, was the only family I had from the time I was young — he always did his best to take care of me after our parents were gone, but it wasn't easy. He joined the Navy to support us, and, eventually, when of age, I did as well. We both ended up in different sections of the SBS — Special Boat Service — the British version of the Navy Seals."

Gale shifted, interrupting him, and pushed her head into his stomach as she stretched and looked up at him before settling back into her donut shape, head pressed snugly into his thigh. He smiled down at her, thankful for the moment to breathe, and patted her rump.

He continued, his voice flat, emotionless. "I was a fresh lieutenant piloting the small craft taking the squadron Liam commanded on a mission to board a Somali pirate ship to rescue a couple British Nationals they had kidnapped." Killian stopped again and took a deep breath to push down the ache he still felt whenever he thought of that night. Emma was still watching him intently, leaning forward slightly in her seat, waiting silently for him to finish. He frowned and looked away again before continuing. "Let's just say something went horribly wrong in the way of faulty intel. Liam was shot, badly wounded. He died in my arms on the way back to our ship."

He couldn't tell her yet how when the light left Liam's normally mirthful eyes, and his booming voice silenced, a significant part of Killian died, too. He struggled every day to remember the best of his larger-than-life older brother, that memory of what family felt like, and not just the last bloody moments he held onto him, making bargains to anyone who would listen, to save his brother, all to no avail.

At his pause, Emma leaned farther forward and said quietly, "I'm so sorry, Killian." Her eyes watery with unshed tears.

Giving her a half-hearted smile, he exhaled through his nose and met her eyes again. "The manner of his death did not sit well with me, and I guess my mutinous inclinations were a little too much for the comfort of Her Majesty's Navy. As it turns out, I was far more angry with my employers than I was the pirates who killed Liam and I was rubbish at hiding it. An officer friend of Liam's was able to call in some favors to get me an honorable discharge before I was due to get out, even though I definitely did not deserve it. So, I took Liam's death benefit and left my country for good. I used the money to settle here in the States, and eventually used some of it to buy this boat like he and I had talked about doing after we left the service. The sea was always a part of us, and I couldn't give it up. It would be like giving him up." he finished, his voice rough, barely above a whisper.

Emma smiled sympathetically and concluded, "So ironic piracy, huh?"

"Pretty much," he admitted, followed by a defeated sigh.

Emma bobbed her head, pursing her lips together, and sat back again, not making eye contact as she seemed to be mulling over his story. Eventually, she looked up, gazed over her shoulder, port side, at the water. Killian watched Emma as she absorbed the view spread out before them, awash in the changing colors sunset had triggered. Her forehead wrinkled slightly, a hint of a smile bringing out the roundness of her cheeks. She sighed softly and looked back over at him, her eyes bright with the reflection of the sun's last rays reaching toward them.

"Ironic pirate or not, this is a beautiful place to have ended up," she said, reminding him of how far he had come since that tragic day, but also how far he had yet to go...wanted to go.

"Aye, lass, that it is," he concurred, never taking his eyes from her.

They sat in companionable silence a little while longer, picking at the food on the tray, drinking their beers, and enjoying the vista until Emma yawned.

"Perhaps we should clean up our supper and head back now," Killian suggested. "It will be dark soon enough. Care to give me a hand, love?"

Emma nodded and stood up, stretching her arms overhead as she twisted her back to crack it, then letting her arms flop back down to her sides with a satisfied grunt. She graced Killian with a sleepy smile and said, "I can't remember the last time I felt so relaxed. I didn't know how much I needed it. Thank you," she said.

Killian bowed low, winked at her, and said, "You're welcome, m'lady."

Snickering, Emma picked up the tray of what was left of their food and made her way down to the galley. Killian was not far behind, having picked up the beer bucket and garbage, leaving Gale still dozing on the bench. The two took care of putting the leftovers away and washing and drying the dishes before stashing them in their cupboard so they wouldn't crash around when they set sail again. Every once and a while, Killian would catch Emma looking around the cabin, still somewhat in awe.

"So, Swan, like my boat, do you?" he asked, half a smirk riding up his cheek.

"Yeah," she said in disbelief. "It's tough not to. I didn't know anything like this existed. It's...homey...and just...amazing."

Killian was happy with her assessment. "Well, lass, you are welcome to sail with Gale and me anytime. We go out most weekends if the weather permits."

Her excited smile was enough to stop his heart in his chest for what should have been several beats. "Seriously? I might just take you up on that."

"I hope you do," he said, sincerely. "If you don't mind finishing up down here, I'm going to stow away Gale's dock and get the boat started again for our return."

Upon Emma's acquiescence, Killian climbed back up on deck, refolded the now dry dock, returning it to its spot, which woke up Gale. He was sure she was hoping for one more round of fetch before going home given how she sat up politely and looked at him, her big, brown eyes flickering to the Chuck-it tucked under his arm.

"Sorry love, it's getting dark. We'll play again another time, I promise." He finished shoving the dock and toys into the space beneath the seat and was promptly licked on the nose as he went to stand up again.

Shaking his head with a chuckle, Killian leaned over, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against Gale's, and held onto the thick fur at her neck, scratching her where his fingers had sunk in to the softness of her inky coat. "You're a daft girl, Beanie." He kissed her nose and caressed her muzzle before straightening up.

"Beanie?" Emma asked, amused, from the doorway. Her arms were crossed casually over her chest and she looked affectionately at Gale who began thumping her tail when Emma spoke.

Killian shrugged. "Rhymes with 'Galene,'" he said. "Poor girl has a million nicknames. It's a wonder she comes back to me at all when I call her, but she answers to pretty much anything. Right Queenie?" Gale's thumping got louder and then she barked at Killian.

"That's her favorite," he laughed. "Delusions of grandeur," he added in a loud whisper, leaning into Emma's space conspiratorially.

Rolling her eyes, Emma moved over toward Gale, scratching her under the chin. "Don't listen to him, you _are_ a queen," she crooned and was rewarded with a lick on the face of her own.

Killian arched his eyebrows and tilted his head toward the harbor. "Ready to head back then, love?"

"Mmmhmm."

Stepping in front of Emma – who seemed as content as he had ever seen anyone look, much to his pleasure — he reached out and adjusted the lapels of her sweater so they covered her up more. She looked into his eyes curiously, but didn't stop him. He was close enough that he could feel her light exhale on his cheek, and smiled gently at her. "It gets cold this time of day," he explained, his voice soft and low causing her to lean in slightly. "And I like to drive fast. Don't want you to be cold."

"Quite the gentleman, aren't you?" Emma asked sarcastically, her eyebrow raised in challenge at him.

"I'm always a gentleman," he responded, pushing a lock of her hair out of the way, over her shoulder.

"Hmph," she huffed shaking her head ever so slightly, but never taking her eyes from him.

Waggling his eyebrows, he stepped back and started the engine then shifted the sail to catch the wind in the right direction. Emma sat with Gale again, petting her, the two of them seeming to enjoy the wind whipping by and through their hair as Killian made speed back to the docks before the slowly purpling sky finished its transformation into night.

The last light was fading away when Killian backed The Jolly Roger carefully into its berth. He cut the engine and began going through his docking procedure as Emma went to retrieve her bag from below deck. He detached Gale's staircase from where he had it lashed to the bulkhead and attached it for her to get off the boat. He returned to the cockpit, removed Gale's life jacket, causing her to shake off not once, but twice, throwing the last droplets of water hidden in her shiny black coat, then grabbed her leash from where it hung on the helm.

"Shall we?" he asked them both and waved toward shore. He hopped down to the dock first and offered his hand to Emma, helping her as she, too, jumped down, grasping his arms tightly as she landed. He knew that for many people, solid ground was another adjustment after getting used to the rolling of the boat, so he held her steady for the moment it took her to get her bearings again.

"Th-thank you," she stuttered, looking at him through her lashes then abruptly dropping her hands from his arms and backing away. In that moment of closeness, he could feel the heat rolling off her in waves. Or maybe that was his heat, he couldn't be sure of anything other than being near Emma Swan was a heady experience, indeed.

Killian needed a moment himself, to readjust his...thinking...before he could speak again. Gale ran down her stairs in a thunderous hurry and banged into to Killian as she came up short, her clumsy interruption welcome for a change. He caught Emma's eyes and pressed Gale's leash into her hand then pointed toward the nearby building.

"Would you mind, darling, taking her highness over to the grass there so she can pee? It was a bit of a long ride for her tonight and I'm sure she needs to go," he said. "I just need to finish up one quick thing on the boat and then I'll be right over."

"Sure," Emma said as she lead Gale over to the grass near his office.

Killian took care of stowing Gale's ladder again, then did a quick inspection to make sure nothing was out of place or was left on or behind. Everything "ship shape," he joined Emma and Gale to walk Emma back to her yellow Bug parked in the visitor's lot.

"Thank you for taking me sailing," she said, standing by her car, with a genuine smile that hit Killian right in the chest. He hoped he would be privy to it again. Soon. And often. "I had a great time."

"As did, we, love. Thank you for coming along." Suddenly he felt like a school boy not knowing how, or wanting, to break off the conversation. He could see the same struggle in Emma as they exchanged grins but didn't move otherwise.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, handing back Gale's leash. "This is yours."

Killian held onto her hand after relieving it of the leash and held it to his lips. "And this is yours," he said, kissing the back of her hand softly. He felt her shiver, which was just an extension of the one he, too, felt shuddering through him when he touched her.

"Guess that answers the age old question of when you kiss your guests," Emma chuckled, slowly removing her warm hand from his grasp as if not wanting to break contact.

Killian returned the chuckle and opened her door for her. "Sweet dreams, love," he said closing her door gently, then watching her drive away. A small whine from Gale brought him back. He stroked Gale's head a couple of times and said, "I know what you mean."

~.~

On Monday, when Killian returned home from a rather exasperating day dealing with boat owners who didn't give a shit about protocol or safety precautions, Gale greeted him as enthusiastically as ever — kisses, howling, and leaning into him to get scratched and hugged. There was no better way to forget the idiocy that came with his job than with Gale's unabashed love for him. _Although..._

Killian looked over at the notebook he shared with Emma, and laying on the pages was a long chain, with two pendants — a gold and silver skull with crossbones, and silver sword — dangling from it. He pulled it over his head, enjoying the heft and solid feel of it against his chest. Grinning like a child on Christmas morning, he read the note.

_Hey Daddy!_ _Look at the treasure Emma and I found today! She said if I was going to be the dog of a pirate, I should start learning to dig up the good stuff and earn my keep. Hope you like it! Oh, and she thinks you and I make quite a team and would like it if we helped her out during her next puppy kindergarten training class._ _xo,_  
_Gale_ _P.S. _  
_If you can make it, class is this Wednesday night at 6pm at the shelter. I have always wanted to be able to have a "demo dog" to show clients what to strive for, and I think you and Gale are perfect for the job._ _ES_ _P.P.S. Pizza is on me after._

Killian glanced down at Gale who had just returned with her favorite stuffed duck in her mouth ready to play "keep away" with her as they did whenever he returned home from work.

"What do you think, Galene? Shall we go be good examples for a change?" he inquired of his furry girl as she stared at him.

Gale dropped the duck and barked, almost annoyed that he would even question whether or not they would go. She picked up her duck again and trotted out of the kitchen glancing back at him, ready to start the chase in earnest.


	5. Dog and Pony Show

**A/N: Thank you all so so very much for all the great reviews and follows and favorites. I really really am floored. This chapter is a bit long, so snuggle up and dig in. Hope you enjoy it! **

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Throughout the years Emma had been working with dogs and their people, she occasionally would run across a dog/owner combo who resembled each other — _à la_ the beginning of _101 Dalmatians_. She'd try not to laugh aloud at the pair in deference to the fact that it actually made it easier for her to remember both their names, but it wasn't easy. It was, however, safe to say that she never encountered a duo that made her heart explode with unending love for the dog and a fiery lust for the owner. There was a first for everything. Because through the window of the training room at the shelter, Emma spied Killian Jones and his Gale, talking with David Nolan, looking like they came from the same litter.

"Are you fucking _kidding_ me?" she mumbled to herself in complete disbelief as she peered through the window trying not to be seen while she reattached her jaw, which had stopped dropping somewhere near her kneecaps. She peeked through the window again to commit to memory the beauty of the two of them together, so effortlessly perfect, because she never wanted to forget.

Killian, with his rather disheveled dark hair, had on a black, long-sleeve, v-neck t-shirt, his own "fur" the perfect backdrop to showcase the pirate-themed necklace she'd given him — which she could see he was wearing thanks to the sunlight glinting off the metal pendants — as well as black jeans with black high-top Chucks. Gale sat politely, still on her leash, blending in with Killian, the light cutting into the room making her coat shine like polished onyx, as she leaned against his leg so he could easily stroke her ears while he chatted. The only colors between the two of them were his brilliant blue eyes and a new, bright, bubblegum pink collar around her neck. _Sweet Jesus..._

Emma turned her back to the window and leaned her head against the wall of the building. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she could feel the flush creeping up her neck right into her face. _Oh, God, what is wrong with me?_ lead to _How can one person that good-looking be real?_ and finished with _What am I getting myself into?_ She needed to get whatever was possessing her to feel damn near giddy out of her system before going into the training room. Dogs might be able to sense fear, but men could sense an ego boosting opportunity a mile away. She had no doubts Killian and David would peg her for the 12-year-old, boy-band-loving schoolgirl she apparently was if she went in there now. Killian would just look smug about it, and David would only pepper her with stupid jokes forever more if he thought she liked his friend. _No fucking way._ So she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, counted to 10 (twice...maybe three times) and then headed in, professional, yet approachable, face securely in place.

She walked through the doorway into the cheerful yellow room, and was greeted by three smiling faces and one loudly thumping tail.

"Swan," Killian said with a hint of disbelief that she was actually there even though _she_ was the one who invited _him_. Gale strained at the end of her short leash as she tried to get closer to Emma, wagging her tail in large arcs, hitting both Killian and David with each swing. Emma gave everyone a quick wave as she removed her backpack and dropped it to the floor in front of the large white board.

"Hey, Emma!" David exclaimed as he came over to give her a hug. "Thanks so much for teaching this one again. I know you prefer the more advanced classes."

"No problem. Maybe this will be a good group," she said hopefully.

"Try not to threaten anyone this time though, ok?" David asked warily but with a knowing smile.

"I make no promises," she responded with a grimace.

Last time she taught the puppy obedience class, some asshole rolled and pinned his puppy on its back then yelled in the poor dog's face because it "wouldn't listen." She snatched the puppy away from the guy and quietly promised to roll and pin him if he tried that shit again in front of her or any of her students. Then she stopped the class and re-explained the point of everyone being there, which was to learn _positive_ reinforcement training. It wasn't the first time someone had decided they needed to dominate a puppy, but it certainly was the last. She stopped teaching puppy obedience which killed her because she loved watching those goofy pups become smart dogs, but one more idiot and she was bound to punch someone and wind up in jail...again, but this time for assault. She couldn't afford to lose everything she'd been working towards.

"Then just do the best you can," David offered instead. "I tried to weed out the jackasses ahead of time."

"Thanks," Emma said, somewhat relieved. David was short a trainer, and he'd been forgiving after that incident, so she didn't want to let him down.

David smiled sympathetically at Emma. "I'll let you two get ready for class." He thumped Killian on the shoulder and said, "I'll see *you* Friday night at the Council meeting."

"Absolutely," he nodded.

Pointing his finger and wagging it in Killian's face, David narrowed his eyes and said, "Good. 'Cause this time I'm taking you to the cleaners."

A big grin split Killian's face as he chuckled deeply. "In your dreams, mate. I've almost got enough money put away to go on a long tropical vacation thanks to you. Warn Mary Margaret you'll be eating ramen again for the next month."

The two men smiled warmly at each other as David walked out the door to the shelter, but not before shooting Emma a subtle nod at Killian and a quick, questioning arch of his eyebrows. Emma scowled at him in response. David's laugh echoed down the hall. _Son of a bitch_.

Oblivious to their exchange, Killian turned to Emma, his smile still bright enough to power a city block.

Emma shifted her scowl into dubiousness. "Council meeting?" she asked, curiosity piqued.

"Aye, that's what we call Poker Night. It's me, David, and some fellow city employees: our mate Robin from Fish and Game, August from Parks and Rec, and Jefferson from Transportation. We play the second Friday of the month. David always loses. He works with animals more than politicians, so the man is rubbish at bluffing. He probably could have put a kid through college with what he's lost over the years."

Somehow Emma was not surprised. David had been a good friend and helped her and her business out any way he could, but he was not one for hiding things well. He was as open as the dogs he loved so much. And that was why she preferred working with him. He was just a big puppy himself.

"So," she said, changing the topic. She waved at Killian's choice of outfit and said, "Taking this whole pirate thing and running with it I see."

Killian shrugged nonchalantly. "I've been told I look quite striking in black, darling," he informed her with a wink. "Brings out my eyes with the added benefit of hiding the dog hair. Shedding season, you know."

Snorting at his practicality, Emma leaned down to give Gale a kiss and check out her new accessory. "Love Gale's new collar...I think. Are those?...I've never seen pink skull and crossbones before."

Killian crossed his arms over his chest and nodded, amused. "She may be a pirate, love, but she's still a lady. I think you carry it off quite well, don't you Galene?"

Gale wagged her tail, thwacking it against the door. Emma stroked her head one more time, then straightened up.

"Alright, Dread Pirate Roberts, give me a hand getting the room ready?"

"As you wish," Killian said with a bow.

Emma closed her eyes and dropped her head back — the man had a talent for making her want to groan, and not just in the good way — then directed Killian to leave Gale behind and put up the baby gate that closed off the small kitchenette they were standing in front of from the rest of the room. She covered the gate with a blanket so the other dogs wouldn't be able to see Gale, and reached into her backpack for a nice new smokey bone for Gale to gnaw on until they needed her.

With Gale settled, she had Killian set up two sets each of two folding chairs against the three outer walls, leaving the front of the room free for Emma to teach. They put informational packets and clickers out on each pair of chairs, then Emma wrote "Positive Reinforcement Training" on the whiteboard and was filling in some bullet points when the puppies and their owners started filing in. Emma could see Killian out of the corner of her eye nodding and waving to each person in greeting as they took their seats. At least one of them had natural people skills. _He should come along all the time,_ she thought.

Her work at the board finished, she glanced around the room at all the new dog owners juggling leashes, curious puppies, and all their gear. Some were managing better than others, but they were all doing it with a sense of humor, so that was promising. She tried to gauge who might be a problem child as quickly as she could, but instead all she saw were the women trying to catch glimpses of Killian, making their settling in more complicated than it needed to be. She reassessed her earlier thought; _Maybe he should've stayed home._

Once everyone was seated with their puppies at least leashed and not wandering off (yet), she introduced herself and gave her training credentials and contact information. She grabbed a clipboard from her bag and said, "I just want to take roll so I can start putting names and faces together. Ok...Anton and Tiny?"

"That's us! Hi!" a gentle giant of a man, his brown, curly hair pulled back into a ponytail to reveal a round, open face, said genially, waving to Emma and the rest of the class. His sleek black and brown Min Pin, Tiny, sat regally on his lap, Anton's enormous hand practically covering the entire front of the pup as he held him steady. Emma smiled warmly at the man, already sure he was going to be one of her favorite students.

"Very nice to meet you, Anton and Tiny. Next up is Ariel and Sebastian?"

"Hi!" A red-headed woman with a curly black mop of a Portuguese Water Dog currently inching its way toward the dog next to them, gave an easy-going grin as she raised her hand. She looked around the room, and when she made eye-contact with the tall, dark-haired man barely holding his Sheepdog puppy in their allotted space, she blushed.

"Hello, Ariel and Sebastian...Now...let's see...Victor and Frank?"

The blondish man with the cheesiest grin on the East Coast pointed at Emma asked in a voice that reminded her of a piano lounge singer, "How you doing?" His little dog, which looked like a mix between a Blue Heeler and some sort of terrier — all spots and crazy, wiry hair, with one big patch of dark fur over his right eye — was hiding behind his leg, peeking out at everyone, more than a little afraid of the activity.

"Just...um...fine. Thanks. Uh...Eric and Max..." Emma called out but the only man left in the room didn't answer. Emma looked back down at her list to be sure she didn't miss something then called out again. "Eric and Max?"

Finally pulling his gaze from Ariel, Eric looked embarrassed as he grinned at the floor before answering. _Busted_. "Oh, sorry! That's me, us, I mean. I'm Eric, this is Max." Emma nodded at him and he went back to stealing glances at Ariel while trying to keep Max from escaping his leash.

"Kathryn and Goldie?"

"Over here." The more flustered of two blonde women spoke up, as she struggled with her Golden Retriever puppy who was chewing and wrestling with her leash in a jumble of paws, leather, tiny teeth and soft, golden fluff. Emma heard Killian snort off to her right and she tried to contain her own chuckle.

"Welcome, Kathryn and Goldie. And finally," Emma said turning to the woman closest to her on the left, "you must be Elsa and Olaf."

"Uh, very nice to meet you!" she said shyly, her gaze sliding past Emma and straight over to Killian. Her eyes widened just a little bit as he nodded at her. Her dog, a fluffy Siberian Husky puppy was sniffing around her chair, oblivious to the rest of the activity in the room, but he did manage to tangle his leash around Elsa's legs in a way that would no doubt be tragic if she tried to stand up too quickly. _What a shame..._

"Great! You're all here. Let me just give you a quick rundown of the schedule. First we'll talk a little about positive reinforcement training and how it works, and then we'll work a little on getting your puppy's attention using the clicker, and toward the end of class, we'll let them all socialize. But for now, I know I'm asking the impossible, but please don't let them near each other so we minimize the distractions. If we need to put up gates between them we can do that. What I'd like you all to do now is give them a toy or something to keep them occupied for a few minutes while I show you the results of consistent training."

Motioning to Killian, he leaned over the baby gate and grabbed Gale's leash before popping open the gate itself to bring Gale over to the front of the room where Emma was waiting.

"This is Killian and his dog, Gale."

"Hello, everyone," Killian said, earning the pointed attention of Elsa and Kathryn, much to the chagrin of Emma, and apparently Victor Whale.

"Killian would you mind running through some of the basic commands Gale knows?"

"Absolutely! Come, love, let's show them what you can do," he said to Gale who was looking at him as if he were the only person in the world.

He ran through the standard commands: "sit," "stay," "down," "wait," "come," "speak," and Emma's favorite, "kisses." Gale performed them all flawlessly as Emma knew she would, and Killian showed the owners how a loving dog-owner could have a strong relationship that lead to reliable obedience...as long as no one was trying to date him apparently. Emma was so glad she asked to have Gale be her demo dog...and Killian her person. By the awed looks on all the dog owner's faces, she could tell they would be hungry for that same kind of relationship with their dogs too. This was the perfect set up for the rest of the class. If only she had met him sooner.

"That's great! Thank you—" Emma started, ready to move on to the next part of the class.

"There's one more, love" Killian interrupted. He looked at her with an excitement in his eyes that Emma could not resist.

"Uh...Ok...Well, show us what you got," Emma allowed with a wave of her hand giving Killian the floor again.

Killian faced the class and explained, "I have a boat that I take Gale out on frequently, and sometimes I need to swing the sail around quickly and I don't want to knock her overboard. So I taught her a command to help with keeping her out of the way at a moment's notice." Looking down at his dog, sitting so nicely at his side, he said softly, "Gale, love, hit the deck."

Immediately, Gale dropped to the floor, head down, as flat as she could be. Killian reached into his pocket and tossed her a treat as he said, "There's a good girl."

Emma was sure she looked as astonished as everyone else in the room. Killian met her eyes, his own a combination of pride and merriment at what he'd shown her he could do. Emma shot him an impressed grin as she clapped in appreciation with the rest of the class. Killian bowed and returned Gale to her place in the kitchenette so Emma could continue undisturbed.

She briefly discussed how clicker training worked, how treats played into the whole process, and the different ways owners could use the clicker to get certain behaviors to be consistent over time. When she described "shaping" as a method of forming a behavior, a good portion of the class looked confused, which was not unexpected. Previously, she would pair people up to play a game that illustrated the concept, but not wanting to have the class go overtime, and doubting the puppies could contain themselves much longer, she decided to do something a little different.

"So, my uh...assisstant, Killian, and I are going to demonstrate how 'shaping' works. The goal is to communicate without speaking. Shaping's a bit like the hot and cold game we all used to play as kids. When he gets 'warmer' I'll click — normally he'd get a treat, too, but I don't want this to take all class. If he's 'cold' I'll just be quiet and wait until he moves in a direction I want him to go. When he does finally exhibit the behavior I'm looking for, I'll click one last time and give him a treat then," she explained.

Killian shrugged and piped up, "I like treats." The class laughed at his response, and he smiled and winked at Emma.

"Good," she said, shaking her head at his cheek. "Now go stand over by the door. Let's get started."

Killian did as Emma told him and stood in front of the door. When she nodded, he took a step towards her. _Click._ And another step. _Click._ Then a few more. _Click._ _Click._ _Click_ until he was standing just outside of arm's reach. He tried to take another step but she just stood there, so he stopped and stepped back. _Click._ She kept her eyes on him, blank look on her face so she wouldn't give the game away. He tried taking a step to either direction...nothing. He tried turning around. Nothing. She could see his frustration growing with each failed motion, and he raised his hand and scratched behind his ear. _Click._

His head snapped up and looked at her in the only way she could describe it: triumphantly. Her only reaction was to slightly arch her eyebrow, urging him on. He kept his hand near his ear for a brief moment, and she could see he was deciding which direction to move it in. He started to raise it higher to the top of his head. Nothing. He touched his nose. Nothing except for a few snickers from the class. He touched his lips. Nothing — no click anyway...Emma gulped and Killian looked at her through his damnable dark lashes, smirk pushing out from either side of his finger as it rested there. Still nothing. Looking a tad disappointed, he began to lower his arm to his side, obviously at a loss again. _Click._

This time he arched his eyebrow, raised his arm again to where it was when she clicked. _Click._ He looked across the line where his arm was and he huffed to himself as he looked up at her, silent question in his eyes. She just waited. Slowly he moved his arm toward the center of his chest. _Click._ He reached for the pendants hanging from the chain. _Click._ As he grabbed them tightly in his fist, she clicked again and held out a Hershey's kiss.

"Good boy!" she said, laughing. He grabbed the kiss and unwrapped it, popping it into his mouth much to the amusement of the rest of the class. She loved that he knew how to work a crowd because it took the pressure off her. She congratulated herself again on her brilliant idea to have him be a part of her class and wondered if he would agree to do it regularly.

After Killian moved back to where Gale was chilling out behind the gate, she went on with the class, teaching the dog owners the most important thing: getting the dog to pay attention. It was the foundation for all the other commands and she moved from dog to dog, showing the owners how to do it and praising them for their successes, leaving each one with a look of relief not just in their face, but in the relaxed, confident way they dealt with their puppy after Emma left.

With fifteen minutes to go, Emma announced they would let the dogs loose to get some socializing in — a little reward for working hard. She asked Killian to let Gale out too, so the pups could interact with an older, stable, dog. She was hoping Gale would prove herself to be as good a demo dog as her dad was crowd-pleaser. She wanted Gale to show the pups how to play and behave appropriately with other dogs as only another dog could do. She wasn't disappointed.

In the tumult of running, chasing, tumbling, sometimes howling dogs, Gale interacted with them all, play bowing and letting the puppies roll over her, mouthing their muzzles gently when they got too nippy with her, and picking one or two of them up by the scruff and removing them from the group when she'd had enough of their shenanigans. Not a person in the room could help but laugh and smile as the puppies and Gale did what dogs do best: make their people happy by being happy themselves.

She felt the comfortable solidity of Killian standing beside her, happy to have him there to share her favorite part of puppy class. He leaned close to Emma's ear and whispered, "She's a beautiful girl, my Gale." Suppressing the shiver reflex at his closeness she seemed to have picked up a week ago, Emma chuckled at Killian being the proud dog dad that he was, but in truth, she couldn't have agreed more.

She looked over at him and nudged his arm with her elbow to get his attention again. "Thanks for bringing her. I had a feeling you would both be great at this."

"How could we not come, love? If it weren't for you, Gale wouldn't be half as amazing as she is. We owe you much, Emma Swan," Killian admitted as he looked back at Emma, the earnestness of what he said washing over her until she was sure she was drowning in his eyes again.

"Uh, Ms. Swan, seems we've had an accident over here," Victor's voice called out, interrupting the moment to point out a puddle where Frank had relieved himself in what was probably a reaction to Olaf's persistent attention.

"Party's over, kids!" Emma teased. "Actually, it is time for class to end, so if you all could gather your furry kids and belongings, I will see you next week. If you have any questions at all, my email is in the packet. I will be happy to address them then, and we can also discuss them at the next class. Thank you all so much for coming — it's been an absolute pleasure meeting you all."

As Emma was saying her individual good byes to her students, she noticed that Killian had found the cleaning products and was taking care of Frank's accident. When he was done with that, he folded up the chairs, returning them to their rack out in the hall, so that when the last person left (Elsa, with a long look over her shoulder at the hustling Killian), they were ready to go out for pizza.

~.~

Killian and Emma sat outside under the blue and white striped awning of Pandora's Pizza, a large pepperoni and mushroom plus a couple bottles of ale between them. Gale lay at Killian's feet, her leash wrapped around the leg of his chair, her doleful eyes glancing up at him now and again in hopes of a pizza bone being dropped in her direction. They'd been bantering back and forth about the class, Killian offering her some insights based on what he'd observed watching each of the dogs and their owners (the most amusing being that Eric and Ariel would end up in bed together by the end of the course).

"You know Swan, you really were bloody brilliant out there on the floor with the dogs...and their people. You're amazing. How did you get into dog training in the first place? Did you have dogs as a child?" he asked before taking a huge bite from his slice.

Talking around the food squirreled away in her cheeck, Emma answered with her fingers covering her mouth and her eyes unable to meet his. "Not really, no. It's been so long, I don't really remember."

Killian looked at her skeptically and gestured toward Gale. "Why don't you have a dog of your own, if you don't mind my asking?"

She sat back putting some distance back between them and took a long swig of beer before answering. "My landlady is a cat person," she said, landing somewhere between a statement and a question.

Killian huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. He frowned, sat back himself, and shook his head. "While that may _be_, darling, I don't think that's _it_. This should be an easy question to answer. Why isn't it for you?" he asked.

Emma's eyebrows knit together as she dismissed his prodding. "It's a long story. You don't want to hear it."

"Perhaps I would," he countered, his eyes set upon her with a seriousness that made her antsy. There were only a few people in her life who knew her whole story and it wasn't something she shared freely over pizza. At least not so far.

Emma stood up, dropping her napkin on her chair. "Excuse me for a minute? Just need to hit the ladies' room. I'll be back," she said.

"Gale will be sad if you aren't. She's counting on those pizza bones," he joked even though he looked at her with concern. Emma gave him a weak smile in return, and headed into the modest restaurant, and straight into the single-stall bathroom.

Luckily there was no one in there to see her pace like a caged animal, chewing on her thumb nail while she considered Killian Jones and all the conflicting things he made her feel. He'd been nothing but kind and appreciative and interested in _her_. He was insanely hot and she loved his dog like she were her own. He'd been generous not just with Gale, but his time, and his own story. Telling her about his brother could not have been easy. She knew it wasn't. He was completely wrecked as he shared that part of his past with her, and she understood all to well what that loss must have done to him. But still, she didn't know everything about Killian and that scared her to death. She didn't know what to expect from him. She wanted to tell him everything about her. She felt like she could, but she'd been wrong before.

Emma turned on the faucet full blast, clearing her mind by listening to the constant flow of water down the drain and not the shitty voice in her head that was telling her there was no way he was going to stick around once he knew her truth. She splashed some water on her face and dried it with a stiff paper towel. She crumpled it up and tossed it into the garbage, willing the notion that she had to continue to hide to go with it. Christ's sake she was almost 30-year-old woman with a business of her own and _why was this so fucking difficult_? If she couldn't trust her own instincts about him, then maybe she should trust Gale's. Gale clearly adored him, trusted him to be her safety net. If a dog could do it, why couldn't she?

Emma took a deep breath and walked out of the bathroom with determination. She paused at the door and watched Killian for a second. Gale was standing, her front paws on his lap, and he looked worried as he stroked her head and neck, occasionally kissing her nose while he talked to her. He looked around and sighed, making Gale hop down from his lap. She put her head on his lap and he continued to distractedly run his hand from the crown of her head to her back.

Emma shoved the door open, and Killian looked up as the bells above it jingled, his relief at her return blatantly apparent. Emma sat back down in her seat and took a deep breath. She picked up her beer bottle, fiddled with the condensation wrinkled label, and sat back with a sigh.

"So, uh, how I got into dog training, why I don't have a dog, and all that...other stuff you mentioned kind of go together," she started.

Killian stopped petting Gale and watched Emma closely, giving her his rapt attention. If she'd been in a different mood, she'd have clicked and given him a treat.

"I was raised in the foster system, so dogs weren't a regular thing in my life. I was on my own from the time I was 17, and I met this...guy. Neal. Long story short, he disappeared and I ended up in jail taking the fall for a crime he committed. Haven't seen him since. Don't want to either."

She looked up at Killian whose expression had a layer of anger surfacing over his curiosity. His nostrils flared and jaw twitched, but he refrained from commenting and she was grateful for that.

"The one good thing to come out of that experience...the _only_ good thing..." she continued, "was that the prison I was in had a program that taught inmates how to train dogs. As it turned out, training was one of my special talents. Being with the dogs was the only time I felt right, like I was something more than what I had been lead to believe my whole life. Ruby, Mrs. Lucas' granddaughter, was my cell mate at the time, and when I got out, I moved here and she hired me to help her.

"As for why I don't have a dog..." she shrugged, "well, I couldn't afford a place that would let me have one, for starters. And once I decided I wanted to have my own business training dogs one day, I needed to save as much money as I could in addition to paying for my certifications, so I stayed in my cheap, 'no dogs allowed' apartment. I knew I was going to have to make my own way, so that's what I've been working toward the last ten years. Not many people are willing to hire ex-cons...especially when they've been in for burglary. So, my sacrifice was not having a dog of my own. But once Gale came into my life...I dunno...I didn't feel quite so...incomplete anymore."

Hearing her name, Gale got up and walked over to Emma, who held her furry face between her hands and kissed her nose with love and gratitude.

Killian leaned in over the table toward Emma, the corners of his mouth upturned slightly, and said, "I know exactly what you mean."

~.~

On Friday, when Emma went to pick up Gale for their walk, there was a gift box with a big, fluffy red bow, waiting for her by the notebook. Before reading the note, she ripped off the paper (with puppies all over it, of course) and opened the lid to reveal a silver-framed picture of Emma and Gale from the boat ride they'd taken last weekend. In it, Emma was laughing freely as Gale licked the side of her face, the sky beautiful shades of pink and purple behind them. She ran her finger over the glass, her breath catching in her throat at what she saw. For the first time ever, she saw joy in her own face. Stunned and hands trembling, she read the note.

_Emma!_ _Thank you for the pizza the other night — pizza bones are my favorite! Can we go there again sometime? Maybe without my lousy dad who wouldn't share his pizza with me?_ _Lameness aside, my dad thought you might like this picture of the two of us. He said it was his favorite and he thought you looked beautiful (shhh...don't tell him I told you...he's shy!). I hope you like it._ _xo_  
_Gale_ _PS. I need to ask a favor of you, if that's ok. Can I call you about it later?_ _KJ_ _PPS. I'm not that shy. You are beautiful._

Tears started filling Emma's eyes and she kneeled down, hugging the picture in one arm and Gale in the other.


	6. Dog With Two Bones

**A/N: One of Aesop's Fables is called the "Dog With Two Bones." As the story goes, a dog, carrying a bone, sees his reflection in the water and thinks it is another dog with a better bone. In his effort to take that bone away, he drops his own, therefore losing both. **

**There be fluff and ****_temporary_**** angst (flangst?) ahead, mateys. You've been warned. Also, not every question will be answered this chapter but definitely the next (which is already half written). **

**Warnings for this chapter include mention of violent death and capital punishment without specific details.**

**Again, a huge huge thank you to everyone who's been following and reviewing. You are my sunshine, my only sunshine...you make me happy when skies are gray! xo**

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Killian and Gale were not far from Robin's cabin on the outskirts of town for the monthly "Council Meeting" when he called Emma about the favor he mentioned in his note. He was a little nervous talking to her after telling her flat out he thought she was beautiful because he couldn't gauge what her reaction might be, but it was true and she deserved to hear it...well read it. He'd get around to telling her in person soon enough he hoped.

When Emma answered his call, he could hear her smile when she said his name, and he almost had to pull over because he couldn't concentrate on anything but how happy she sounded talking to _him_. Gale, however, hearing Emma's voice coming from the vicinity of her Dad's head, tilted her own, perked her ears to hear better, and peered at him intently from the passenger seat where she was buckled in. Killian rolled his eyes at her and pointed to the phone he had wedged between his ear and shoulder as if she had any clue what a phone was. Gale continued to look suspicious but thumped her tail nonetheless.

After greeting Emma with probably the widest grin he'd sported since at least Wednesday night, Killian broached the topic of that favor he wished he didn't need. "Say, Swan, I know I should have scheduled this sooner, but would any of your 'pet saviors' be available to take care of Gale for me while I'm away for a couple of days? I leave the 19th and come back the 21st. I'll pay extra for the lack of notice."

"As it turns out, _I_ am free. And spending quality time with Gale would be a treat. You don't need to pay extra though. Where you off to?" she asked. Killian could sense a rejoinder not far behind and waited a beat. "Got a parley with the other pirate captains?" she teased. _There it was._

Joke or not, Killian was unsure how to respond. This was clearly not the time to mention he was going to the execution of the man who murdered his fiancé several years ago. Sharing his story of Liam's loss as soon as he did was painful enough, but this was another animal entirely, and fraught with more violence than the slasher movies he and Liam would sneak into see in their underaged, parentless youth. Talking about it, never mind burdening Emma with it so early in their...friendship...relationship?...was nothing he was prepared to tackle over the phone before a poker game.

"Heh, not quite," he drawled trying to disguise his nervous laughter. "It's a...uh...work trip I've been dreading to the point of avoidance," he said with a heavy sigh. Dread wasn't a strong enough word for what he was feeling — whatever dread, anxiousness, nausea, and fear made up was closer to reality — but knowing Emma would be there with Gale alleviated some of his trepidation about going, but only by a thin margin. "Since I'll be gone overnight, love, you are more than welcome to stay at the house with Galene. I've got a guest room and it's yours for the taking."

"Thanks. Works for me. Always happy to get out of my apartment...Will I see you before you leave?"

"I bloody well hope so. I'll need something worthwhile to distract me while I'm away," he admitted. Hearing Emma snort at him on the other end, he continued, "Let's see what the weekend brings weather wise. Maybe we can sneak in a boat ride."

"That would be great. I'll need a break from all my backlogged accounting. Talk about dreading to the point of avoidance..." she commiserated.

"Well then, lass, we'll talk again soon?"

"Um hmm. Give Gale a kiss for me?" she added quickly.

"Consider it done, darling," he chuckled as he pulled into Robin's driveway behind David's rusting pick up truck. "Now you must excuse me while I go take the rest of David's money."

"Good luck with that. Leave him enough for a tow in case that heap of his falls apart on the way home," she suggested as if she knew exactly what he was looking at.

Killian laughed at the coincidence and said archly, "A walk would do the man good. Sweet dreams, love."

"'Night, Killian."

~.~

Departure day arrived with haste, in spite of him willing it to disappear completely each day prior, and Killian was just zipping up his bag when he heard Gale barking happily from the kitchen.

"That you, Swan?" he shouted from his room.

"Yup. Expecting someone else? Maybe your fairy godmother?" She yelled back even as she walked down the hall toward his voice.

Killian stuck his head out of his doorway and said sardonically, "I should be so lucky. Maybe then I bloody well wouldn't have to fly. But I think you'll do in a pinch." He winked at Emma who was carrying her own duffle bag, hugging it to her chest.

She still managed to raise her hands in apology as she sing-songed "Sorry, just a savior."

Holding his arm out in the direction of the room opposite his, Killian said, "Right this way, Savior. I've got your accommodations all ready."

The guest room wasn't huge, but the large window along one pale, sage green wall, and ceiling with exposed beams made it seem spacious. Natural wood trim matched the beams overhead, and the simple, squared-off, mission-style bed, nightstand, and bureau pulled the room together in quiet order. The full-sized bed was covered in an eggplant colored duvet with fluffy, cream-colored pillows resting against the headboard, with a woodblock-style triptych of a stand of birch and pine trees above it.

Emma's eyes widened and she whistled. "Classy. Who's your decorator?" she asked with a sideways glance at Killian who leaned against the door jam, watching her reaction with amusement.

Crossing his arms over his chest with a smug look, he said, "Google," making Emma chuckle and roll her eyes.

"Well, it's certainly better than any room in my apartment," she confessed as Gale pushed between them and hopped up on the bed, laying like an Egyptian statue, but tongue hanging out, as she wagged her tail, obviously satisfied with her new location.

"Bad form, Gale. Get off the bed. You have to be invited, you know that," Killian chided Gale, pointing to the floor. She gave him her best "but Dad" look while she lazily climbed down as if it were her own idea to leave.

Emma gave Gale a sympathetic smile and leaned over to kiss her head and whisper, "Don't worry, we'll snuggle as soon as he's out the door." Gale gave her a lick and snuck by again into the hall. Straightening up, Emma cocked her head at Killian and remarked, "I'll be sure to remember _that_ rule."

"Do," he returned, eyes locking on to hers. His eyebrow arched ever-so-slightly as his jaw twitched trying to contain the leer threatening to make an appearance. Her answering smirk made him wonder which one of them might get around to inviting the other first. _Damn this bloody trip._

From the kitchen, Gale barked, breaking their mutual, and increasingly heated gaze. With a small huff, he shook his head at his dog's timing. "Swan, would you see what's troubling the Queen while I grab my bag and book? I've got to leave soon if I'm going to make my flight."

"Absolutely," she said, turning and making her way down the hall. Killian watched her go with an overwhelming sensation that she belonged there as much as he or Gale did. They'd already been sharing dog parenting duties for a while now and between them, and Gale turned out pretty amazing. Emma thought he and Gale made "quite the team," but he felt that way about her and Gale too. Maybe the three of them together would make an even better team.

He walked back into his room, collected up his bag, and retrieved his dog-eared copy of Patrick O'Brien's _Master and Commander_ from his nightstand and shoved it in the side pocket with his plane ticket and "invitation" for the execution. He preferred sailing over flying, but there were no ports where he was going and The Jolly Roger was not an airborne vessel no matter how much he might have wished for it to be.

Killian's feet felt like they were encased in lead as he left his room and headed to the kitchen. The breezeway door was open, and on his way to dump his bag in his Jeep, he saw Emma and Gale out back playing fetch. For the second time since he met Emma Swan, the thought occurred to him that maybe dodging out on his obligations would be the better choice.

Stepping out onto the deck where he dropped his bag, he jumped down into the yard to stand by Emma as she flung the ball off the back fence for Gale to leap up and catch it mid-air as it ricocheted. Both Emma and Killian clapped at her trick.

"Ever think about getting her into fly-ball? She's a natural," Emma suggested.

Killian shrugged since it hadn't really crossed his mind. "Maybe we can talk about it when I get back?"

"Sure," she shrugged. Picking up the ball that Gale had deposited at her feet and throwing it again, she turned and faced Killian, looking at him thoughtfully. "One more thing before you go...I still haven't thanked you for the picture of me and Gale...or what you said in the note," she said, the look in her beautiful pale green eyes sincere. "Thank you."

Waving off her thanks, he smiled, a bit embarrassed, "No need, darling. I was happy to give it to you. And I meant what I said."

Emma took a step closer into his space and looked at him mischievously. "Well, I think some proper gratitude is in order," she announced, her hips swaying as she moved.

"Aye, isn't that what the thank you was for, love?" Killian asked, amused at the merriment in her eyes and the way she leaned toward him, closing the distance between them just a little more. His tongue peeked out, wetting his bottom lip, then he dragged his teeth across it watching her closely as her eyes flickered to his mouth then back to meet his gaze. He may have shuffled a half step closer, his hand itching to undo the shining, flaxen braid she'd been wearing.

She tilted her head and gave him a sweet, private smile that made him want to run his thumbs over the rounded apples of her cheeks. Her voice was just above a whisper as she said, "But what you did...it meant more to me than words can say."

"Oh. Is this where you click and treat me?" he asked, his grin uncontrollable.

"I left my clicker in the car."

"Pity. Does that mean no treat?" Killian pouted as he swayed even closer to Emma as if on a leash she was reeling in.

She didn't say a word but focused on his lips as she placed one palm flat on his chest, the heat of it radiating right through him like she'd brought the sun down from the sky and replaced his heart with it. Snaking her other hand around his neck and up into his hair to card through it, she drew him the rest of the distance to her own warm, pliant lips in a kiss that he was sure — he wished — stopped time. He wanted to stay there forever, feeling her touch everywhere — where she raked her fingers across his scalp...where her teeth tugged at his bottom lip followed by the soothing stroke of her tongue...where her hand clutched his bicep and her hip and thigh brushed against his own. He wanted to capture the small gasp she made when his tongue met hers and her hum as she ran her knuckles across his scruff.

He wanted his hands to memorize the feel of her cheek and silky hair while it was busy cradling her head as she tilted it to deepen their embrace. And he wanted his other, scarred hand, to catalog the smooth, heated skin of her lower back between its ridges and planes. Most of all, he wanted to keep her close to anchor him to that spot so he never had to leave. But Emma broke off the kiss to catch her breath, her arms now wrapped around his neck, her body arched to press against his chest. Killian, also breathless, hovered over her lips and shut his eyes, feeling a weightlessness like a tethered balloon.

"I could just stay...here...with you," he offered, voice husky, forehead resting against hers, their noses just barely touching.

Grinning against his mouth and giving him another peck on the lips before drawing back again, she murmured, "Go. I'll be here when you get back."

That was all he could hope for, all he wanted.

All Gale wanted, however, was for someone to throw the ball again. Giving the tennis ball a squeak, she tossed it between Killian and Emma's feet, completely non-plussed by the two of them tangled in each other. She looked at each of them in turn, and when neither of them made a move to reach for the ball, she whacked Killian in the leg with her paw then stood back again, every muscle in her body tensed to run.

Emma chuckled as she released Killian from her grasp to tend to Gale's demands. He reached down to pick up the slobbery ball, but before he threw it again, demanded a good-bye kiss from her, which she gave swiftly, her light brown eyes still fixated on the ball in his hand. He held it to her nose, giving it a little shake. "You be good for our Swan, got it? No funny business or it's off to David's house for penance."

Killian tossed the ball and Emma pushed him toward the stairs with one more lingering kiss to last him the next 48 hours.

~.~

The flight was uneventful, but Killian still found it difficult to read his book even though he knew each word on every page. Liam began reading the series to him when he was a boy, and it was Liam's old copy he had with him now. He kept it more to read his brother's notes scribbled in the margins like messages in a bottle whenever he was missing his brother's guidance. This time he couldn't tear his eyes from the picture of Emma and Gale — the same one he gave to Emma the other day — which now the wallpaper on his phone. He'd only been gone a few hours but he already missed his girls.

Even after he checked into the hotel near the prison, he felt torn about going to the actual execution. Gold had long since robbed him of the potential of a life and family with Milah, and her memory was becoming more faded with each day, like an old, grainy film from decades past, the color a mere wash of what it was, and the sound distorted. Of course, he'd forgotten what she sounded like first, and sometimes the color of a crisp autumn day reminded him of the blue of her eyes, but he always second-guessed himself and would have to look at a picture of her to be sure. She'd been lost to him for longer than he wanted to admit. The vile way Gold ripped her away from Killian overshadowed her life in ways that infuriated him and he was not sorry to see Gold to pay for all that with his life.

Killian thought he knew how he would feel knowing that monster was no longer in this world, but now he wasn't sure if Gold's life or death meant anything to him anymore. There were plenty of days Killian thought he'd finally moved beyond the anger, helplessness and grief left after Milah was gone, but then the scars on his arm would twinge or his weaker left hand would give out, and he would be right back in that hole he had been so desperately trying to climb out of and fill back over. He was going to the execution in the hopes that watching that demon die would offer him the closure he convinced himself he needed to set himself free of the guilt that had plagued him since his path crossed Gold's. He thought without that chain shackling him to her killer, he would be able to move forward...maybe with Emma Swan. She was the first to make him think a life of happiness was possible again. He wanted that more than anything.

The day of the execution, he was getting lunch at the hotel bar when a few other familiar faces made their way in. Many of the families of Gold's other victims were also present for his overdue demise, and Killian waved to the few he'd gotten to know over the course of the trial and after the conviction. Some still looked haunted as ever, a few almost light on their feet with the knowledge that Gold would be dead in a few short hours, and Killian found that he didn't fit in either category. When the trial was over, and Gold heading to Death Row, some thanked Killian for stopping Gold from continuing his gruesome killing spree, and others just looked at him with resentment behind their eyes as if Milah should have been the one to die first so he could have caught Gold before he harmed their daughters, sisters, wives, or girlfriends. Some days he didn't blame them because that feeling of not keeping a loved one safe he wouldn't wish on anyone else.

"Killian!"

He looked up to see Moe French rounding a table, hand out in greeting. Killian stood and shook hands with the older, perpetually tired-looking man, offering him a seat at his table. Moe was one of the only other victim family members he still kept in contact with on a regular basis, mostly through emails and the occasional Christmas card. They were an informal support group of two, which was just about the right size for both of them. Moe lost his daughter to Gold, and while finding some small degree of acceptance of her death, he struggled much like Killian had.

"How've you been, Moe?"

"Good enough. How about you?" he asked, getting only a shrug and a nod from Killian in return.

"Have to say, Killian, I'm surprised to see you here," Moe declared.

Killian looked miffed. "Why's that?"

"Because of all of us, you are the only one who's been able to move on with any success."

"Is that what you think?" he said, surprised at Moe's assessment.

"Don't _you_? Look at how much you've accomplished since then. You've got your hand working again. You have work you enjoy, friends...a life. Tell me, has that mutt of yours let any women in the house yet?" he laughed.

Killian smiled, his excitement knowing Emma would be home when he returned overpowered the morass of adverse emotions this execution had been conjuring. "Aye. She has."

"Then what the _hell_ are you doing here, son? You've already beaten that bastard. You didn't die along with Milah. You may not have saved her, but you still did a great thing by stopping him, Killian. You deserve a good life. Go live it and stop sacrificing it for the likes of him. You're better than that and I'm sure Milah would want you to be happy again."

As soon as he finished eating, Killian called a cab and left for the airport and Emma.

~.~

He didn't get back until after midnight, and the still warm summer air was filled with the noise of crickets chirping and frogs croaking as Killian rolled his Jeep, headlights off, into the driveway of his house. He didn't want to set Gale to barking and potentially wake Emma, so he didn't bother shaking the house with the opening of the garage door. Instead he parked, grabbed his bag, and went in as quietly as he could. There was one lamp still on in the living room and he could see Emma's hair cascading down the back of the couch as if she'd fallen asleep sitting up.

Making his way around as quietly as he could to see her, she was, in fact, sound asleep, but with a troubled expression on her face. Gale was curled up next to her, and as soon as she sensed him, she began wagging her tail and stretching. He was just about to tuck a loose lock of Emma's hair behind her ear when she opened her eyes, her eyelids fluttering against the light.

When she finally focused on Killian, her expression went flat. "Oh. It's you."

Killian smiled cautiously noting that something was definitely not right. "Aye, love, I came back early."

"You have a message," Emma said with disdain. She picked up a piece of paper from the coffee table as she stood, her jerky motions Gale's cue to jump off the couch and find another place to be.

Killian frowned, bewildered at her tone. _Who the hell could have set her off like this?_ He didn't have any ex-flames who would be reappearing...ever. He didn't give his number freely to anyone who didn't need it. But whoever it was calling him, he was going to make sure they never called again if they were going to piss Emma off like this.

She pushed the piece of paper into his chest, causing him to stumble back a bit in surprise as he took it from her. He was still confused, and more than a little concerned, at the fury rolling off her as she bit out, "While you were gone, a Dr. Hopper from some prison called. Said he couldn't reach you on your cell. He wanted to know if you needed to schedule a counseling session."

_Bloody fucking hell._ "Emma...I—"

Crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at him, Emma barked out, "Since when do harbormasters need to go to prisons? Is that why you were dreading going? The thought of being around inmates make you uncomfortable?"

Killian blanched, but took a step closer, his hand reaching out to stop her from moving away from him, which she shrugged off. "No, love, that couldn't be farther from the truth. Just let me explain—" he pleaded.

Emma turned from him with a bitter laugh and stomped off to her room. "_Truth_?! Ha!" she exclaimed over her shoulder. "Why should I let you explain? So you can lie to me again? No thanks." She began shoving what little she had out back into her duffle. Killian followed close behind, trying to get her to hear him.

"Please, love —" he began before she interrupted him again.

She spun around and pointed at him, her cheeks flush with anger. "Don't _fucking_ call me that!" She snatched the duffle off the bed and skirted by him, as if he were toxic to her touch, into the hallway muttering, "I can't believe I let you lie to me! You lied and _left_! What the _hell_ was I thinking trusting you?!"

"I didn't want to go! If you'd just hear me out—" he continued to implore.

Now standing by the front door, Emma turned to him, the coldness in her eyes piercing his heart, dimming the light she had placed there the day before. "I don't want to. I'm leaving, Killian." She flung open the door and stepped into the night without looking back.

A stunned Killian came to and raced after her, leaving the door wide open — the light from the living room scattering across the front lawn — only his shadow reaching Emma. She was already in her car and he could see her scrub the tears from her face as she turned the ignition. "Don't go, Emma!" he yelled as she sped off.

Lights started flicking on from the houses of his neighbors, but he didn't care. He stood on the lawn, watching her drive away, powerless to move in his shame and distress over hurting her. He wanted to go after her, to make it right, but he also didn't want to anger her more. She obviously needed her space and he needed time to figure out how to explain it all to her.

Running his hand through his hair and scrubbing at his face, he tread heavily back up the stairs onto his front porch where Gale stood in the doorway, her tail down and ears pulled back on her head. Before he could touch her, reassure her everything was ok, she turned and walked back into the living room, and stood there as if not knowing where to go next. He would have joined Gale in that state of inertia, but there was something he needed do.

Killian opened the corner cabinet beneath the bookcase and groped around in the darkness until his hand felt a familiar cardboard box hidden in the back. He scrabbled to pull it forward, and finally had enough of a grip to yank it out from between the other crap he kept hidden there. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, he opened the box for the first time in years, the smell of dusty, crisp newsprint and old ink wafting up from it. Balancing it on his lap, Killian reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, digging around through all the various cards and receipts until he found what he was looking for. Unfolding the well-worn piece of news paper, some of the words having faded away over time and handling, he laid it in the box with the rest of that part of his history and closed the lid.

He rose, box securely under his arm, and placed it on the coffee table then rummaged around in his suitcase until he pulled a newspaper from it, ripped off the front page and added it to the box. He hoped it would all be enough for Emma to understand and the last time he ever had to open it. He'd give her some time to cool down and offer it to her next week. He was counting on her connection to Gale to at least get his foot back in the door. Even if she never wanted to be with him, he wanted her to know why he kept where he was going from her.

Exhaustion finally dragged at him and all he wanted to do was pass out. On his way to the hallway leading to his room, he saw Gale curled up in front of the back door. He called her to bed, but she ignored all his entreaties.

Sighing, Killian mumbled, "Not you too..." He gave up and trudged to his room, collapsing on the bed without getting out of his clothes.

~.~

Monday came, and Killian considered staying home, hoping to catch Emma and give her the box himself, but he had a meeting with the Office of Homeland Security that the Mayor insisted he attend, and there was no getting out if it. Instead, he left the box in a shopping bag and a note to please take it.

When he returned home, the bag was still there but there was a new note in the notebook.

_Hi Mr. Jones!_ _My name is Tee and I'll be walking Gale. I've heard so much about her and I'm really excited to get to know her. She was a great companion today, if a little tired. I'll be back tomorrow!_ _Tee Bell_ _P.S. I left the bag since it was for Ms. Swan and not me. Sorry!_


	7. Every Dog Has Its Day

**A/N: ****This is the last full chapter for this story. I'll be posting an epilogue this week, and then, since the response to this story has been so wonderful (and overwhelming!), I'm open to taking some prompts or requests for "missing" scenes in this AU if anyone is interested. Thanks to everyone for your interest and enthusiasm for this story. Your enjoyment was my enjoyment. I appreciate all the favorites, follows, and reviews (especially after the last chapter). Thank you! **

**Warnings for this chapter include: slightly graphic description of violent death but lacking the emotional punch. Also, bad dog behavior leading to human distress.**

* * *

Emma sat slouched at her desk tucked in the back corner of her "training facility" which was really just a large open room in the surprisingly well-lit basement level floor of an independent pet supply shop in town. She'd slept like shit the last couple of nights, dreaming either of Killian or her time in prison — the first leaving her feverish with want, the second leaving her cold with isolation. The combination, however, left her horny, hollow, and ridiculously tired. Quite the trifecta. She yawned deeply, her head propped in one hand, the picture of her and Gale that Killian gave her in the other.

It had only been a few days since she walked out on Killian...and Gale, and she missed Gale horribly. She constantly felt like something was missing and she couldn't bring herself to go to their spot for lunch by herself. She loved their routine and she adored every black hair on that dog's head, but not seeing her daily was harder than she thought it would be for a dog that did not belong to her technically. Asking Tee to take over Gale's walks for her took every ounce of professionalism she could scrounge together just so she wouldn't cry while she did it. She also missed Killian and the way he called her "love" like they lived in some period piece drama, but she would never admit it to anyone. She could barely admit it to herself. She needed some time to think about what had happened and put some distance between her and Killian. She hated that Gale was stuck in the middle and knew she needed to do something about it, but every option involved talking to Killian and she just wasn't prepared for that yet.

Sighing, she put the picture back down on the corner of her desk, running her finger along the curve of Gale's head, "petting" her one last time before bringing her attention back to the accounting she still needed to catch up on. One thing was for sure: numbers didn't lie.

Losing track of time, Emma was surprised when Tee returned from her morning walks. The petite blonde, who had a thing for wearing green and a floppy bun atop her head, was carrying a large shopping bag. Emma was hoping it was lunch, but knowing where Tee had come from, she doubted that was the case.

"Hey, boss," she called out as she entered the room.

"Tee," Emma greeted her with a short nod. Pointing to the bag she asked, "What's that?"

Tee held it out to Emma. "Mr. Jones left it and asked that I give it to you."

"Oh. Ok..." Emma frowned. She didn't want to deal with any of Killian's overtures here at the office and wasn't terribly pleased he'd involved Tee. She huffed and glanced around the room quickly. Pointing to a filing cabinet against the wall, she requested, "Just put it down over there, would you?"

As Tee brought the bag over where she wanted it, Emma asked, "How was Gale today?"

"I dunno," Tee sighed, shaking her head as she scrunched her nose up in thought. "Is she always so...lethargic? I've never seen a Lab so...lazy. It's not right," she concluded.

Emma bit her lip in concern. "No, that's not like her. Did you let Mr. Jones know?"

"Yeah, I mentioned it in the note today. Told him he might want to get her checked out at the vet if she was still like this for much longer."

"Great, thanks, Tee. Again, I appreciate you taking over for me. I didn't realize how far behind I was on all the paperwork around here. Guess my dog walking days are over," Emma said with a rather melodramatic air.

Tee looked at Emma askance from where she was filling out her time sheet at the little table near Emma's desk. "Riiight. Somehow I doubt that," she mumbled. Straightening up and handing Emma her sheet, she gave Emma a quick smile she said, "Welp, I've gotta run. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon."

Emma waved, "Bye, Tee."

Gale not acting like herself did not sit well with Emma at all. She picked up her phone and was about to call Killian, but hesitated over the "send" button for several seconds before canceling it. Disgusted with herself, she tossed her phone in a drawer so she wouldn't be tempted again. She couldn't. Not yet. For as much as she missed...them...a part of her was still too angry to talk to Killian. She looked over at the bag and wondered if she should go see what was in it, but thought better of it. She wasn't about to be bribed with gifts to forgive him. _Screw that._ As it was, with all the work she still had left to finish, she was barely going to have enough time to prep for class and print everything out she needed to give her students. His gesture, whatever it was, was going to have to wait.

~.~

The stupid folding chair would not open all the way, and Emma was absolutely done wrestling with it. She tossed it to the floor with a frustrated grunt and blew her hair back out of her face.

"Here. Stop beating up my chairs, would you? We're a non-profit, for Pete's sake, and I can't replace them every week if that's how you're going to treat 'em." David teased, handing her a new, open, chair while giving her a probing look.

"Thanks," Emma said, ignoring his joke and his curiosity as she bent over to grab the problem chair to give back to David.

He surveyed the room as if something were missing. "Where's Killian and Gale?" he asked. "I thought they were helping you out with the class."

Emma shook her head and answered, "Not this week. Maybe not anymore."

Crossing his arms over his chest and smirking, he ribbed Emma. "What, did Gale try to lick one of your students to death?"

"No. Nothing like that. It's not Gale," she said wistfully.

David arched his brows with a knowing look, pressing his lips together briefly. "Oh. So it's Killian. I see."

"See _what_?" Emma asked, irritation seeping into her question.

"You two obviously had some sort of falling out. It explains why he was...so out of sorts on Sunday when I stopped by to check on him."

Emma looked confused. "Why did you need to check on him?...Wait, did _you_ know he was going to a prison?" she pressed.

Shifting on his feet, looking slightly uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation, David hedged. "Well, I knew there was a _possibility_ he was going, yeah. Didn't know if he'd decided to actually go or not. It wasn't something we talked about regularly."

"But _why_ was he going? And why couldn't he just _tell_ me?"

"Oh, Emma. I don't know why he didn't tell you. I'm sure he had reasons he thought were...valid. But I can't tell you why he was going in the first place. That's for him to do, not me."

"Not even a hint?" she wheedled.

David put his hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "All I can say is that I've seen the look on his face when you walk in the room or talks about you, and I can guarantee hurting you was the farthest thing from his mind. If anything, it was the opposite. I've known Killian for a while now and he's been through a lot and come a long way. Just like you have. Maybe you should hear him out?...Give him a chance?"

~.~

On her way home after a rather lackluster class full of peeing puppies and owners who could not hold on to their leashes, Emma stopped by her office and picked up the bag Killian sent with Tee for her. When she got to her apartment, she set it down in the middle of her kitchen table and considered opening it, but again she walked away, too tired and still mulling over her conversation with David. She trusted David, but she wasn't ready to trust herself yet. She hadn't had real feelings for anyone since Neal, and while her heart was telling her Killian was _not_ Neal, and her gut was agreeing with David, her brain insisted on putting up the same fight it always did by disagreeing with everyone else. Today she was just too damn tired to referee. So the bag sat on her table, and Emma Swan went straight to bed.

The next night after work, she grabbed the bag and pulled out the plain, square box. There was no bow, no wrapping, no card, nothing. Just a box with very little heft. Sitting cross-legged on her couch, she lifted the lid off it, finding a note on top of a pile of what looked like newspaper clippings.

_Emma,_

_Please forgive me for hurting you. I know you don't want to see me right now, and anything I say will sound like an excuse when, really, there is no excuse for lying to you. I'm sorry._

_You should know that what I was doing at a prison had nothing to do with your past, nor does your having been in prison bother me in the slightest. The offer of counseling Dr. Hopper called about was for those of us who were there to witness the execution of Robert Gold. If you want to know of my connection to him, it's all here in this box. You can do whatever you'd like with the contents. Read it, burn it, use it to pick up poop on your dog walks. It matters not to me anymore because that is my past and I am no longer willing to live in it or let it rule me. What you do need to know, though, is, until I met you, I didn't think I would be capable of moving beyond it. I think I knew it when we kissed and I should have never left. I realized being there at that monster's end could never be more important than having a fresh start with you. That's why I returned early._

_If you choose not to see me again I will understand. I should not have breached your trust. I do wish you would continue to see Gale, however, and I promise I will stay away so we don't have to see each other again if that's what you wish. I don't want to keep her from you ever. I imagine you must miss her terribly by now. I know I would._ _I wish you nothing but the best, Emma Swan. You deserve it and more._

_KJ_

Emma reread the note one more time and thought about what David said, and she concluded that she'd been a bit hasty walking away from him. Kissing him before he left and telling him she would be there when he got back were promises she stopped making after Neal left her. When she found out Killian had lied and the word "prison" was part of it, every nerve in her body screamed at her to run and run fast. Not being able to escape because of her obligation to watch Gale just fueled her fear and anger until she couldn't think straight and every shitty thing she ever felt by being abandoned turned her into that insecure child buried inside her waiting to lash out. By the time Killian returned, her listening skills were no better than a three-year old throwing a tantrum when she couldn't have what she wanted.

Apparently what she wanted was Killian Jones.

Putting his note down on the coffee table, Emma picked up a handful of the newspaper articles from the huge stack of clippings in the box. Folded on top was a front page article dated the day Killian returned, and the headline announced the execution of Robert Gold happening that night. Rifling through the rest of the clippings, she saw they all had something to do with the "Rumplestiltskin" murders. She vaguely remembered hearing about them years ago. Some creepy fuck named Robert Gold was stabbing women, cutting out their hearts and stuffing the hole with gold thread. Really freaky shit — the kind of thing best left to horror movies she'd never watch — because the reality that people like that were out there was too much to comprehend. Back then, when he was caught and the news machine started chugging away full time to bring every gory detail, it grossed her out enough to stop paying attention to it. But there, neatly contained in an unremarkable box, was every tragic and nightmarish aspect of the case. From the last murder, through Gold's trial, and finally his conviction.

She sifted through all the articles, not really reading more than snippets here and there because it still made her uneasy to contemplate that kind of violence, but one headline in particular on a worn and water-stained piece of newsprint caught her eye.

"Former British Special Forces Officer, unable to save fiancé, catches killer" it read. Emma gasped, horrified. Dreading what was to follow, she read on reluctantly.

_Killian Jones, 25, stumbled upon the murder scene before the alleged killer, Robert Gold was finished with his grisly task. Still holding the heart of his last victim, and Jones' fiancé, Milah Read, Gold attacked the young man causing severe damage to Jones' left arm and hand as he fought Gold off. The injured former British soldier was still able to knock out Gold and keep him subdued until police could arrive._

_Holy shit._ Emma sat, stunned. She felt like her own heart had been cut out when the implications of what she read sank in. At least (all) his scars made sense now. She ached for him from the depths of her soul, but her brain could not begin to fathom everything Killian had been through since the brutal deaths of his brother and then his fiancé. _How do you come back from that? How do you stop seeing that every single day?_ she thought as her stomach clenched and her chest tightened, her imagination running wild. She gave Killian credit for being upright and not curled into a ball in the corner of some institution, but most of all, she was impressed he could love again at all. From the first time she saw him really interact with Gale, she could see how deeply he loved that dog and she wondered what it would feel like to be loved like that — without limits. And now he saw the future because of her. That was just...staggering. She looked down at the article again, her own tears beginning to fall, soaking into the paper, marring the words, and she sobbed knowing one thing: exactly how alone he must have felt this whole time. And she'd left him alone again.

~.~

Early Friday morning Emma woke, startled and disoriented, to the sound of someone knocking urgently on her door. She was surrounded by Killian's newspaper clippings, the one about him still clutched in her hand. Her mind raced, and her heart pounded in time to the beating at her door.

"Swan! Swan, it's me! Please open up, love."

Still trying to jumpstart her brain without the aid of industrial strength coffee, Emma couldn't tell if that really was Killian coming for her or if it was just another dream. Real or not, she needed the banging to stop before her neighbors threw a hissy.

"Coming, coming," she mumbled. Obviously not hearing her, Killian continued knocking at the door.

"Emma, please, Gale's run away. I need your help."

Gale. _Run away? What the hell?_ Hauling herself off the couch, still stiff from the awkward position she was in all night after exhausting herself crying, she ambled as fast as she could to the door, sliding the deadbolt, and turing the lock before flinging it open. Killian stood before her, out of breath, eyes wild with dark circles beneath them, his clothes damp and wrinkled, and hair standing up on end in spots. Even when she'd met him the first time, when he'd been throwing up all afternoon, he didn't look nearly this undone.

Without thinking — mostly because her brain was still warming up to the idea of working — she threw her arms around Killian's neck and hugged him fiercely. He was cold and she could feel him trembling. It took him a beat or two before his own arms went around her, his hands splayed across her back, fingers digging into her skin, and his head buried in her hair. His body shook with uneven breaths as he tried to steady himself.

"Emma," he choked out as she held him in place, stroking his hair and rubbing his back to soothe him. They stood like that for a least a minute before she let go and looked at him, worrisome frown on her face.

"What do you mean she ran away?" Emma asked as she moved aside to let Killian in before closing the door behind her.

He moved with the look of a beaten man into her apartment. "I took her to the vet yesterday afternoon because she just wasn't acting herself, and before I could get her back in the car, she just took off. Her leash slipped through my accursed hand," he said, holding up the hand with the scars criss-crossing it before continuing, "and she was out of sight before I knew it. I've been looking for her all bloody night, but nothing. She's disappeared. I'm terrified something's happened to her."

"Where did you look?" Emma asked, doing her best to sound calmer than she felt.

"The marina, my neighborhood, the shelter, animal control...three times," Killian ticked off on his fingers before continuing. "I'm sure Graham's going to sick his dog on me if I show up there one more time. I stopped at all the houses of my mates on the Council. No one's bloody well seen her. I even went to the pizza place we took her to. I've been everywhere she and I go and nothing. She's gone."

Killian's shoulders sagged in defeat as he finally collapsed into her kitchen chair. He ran his fingers through his hair, doing nothing to help its already disheveled state, then down his face, wiping his eyes along the way. Emma was still trying to pull herself out of the groggy morass that was her usual morning challenge, but something Killian said struck her.

"Oh!" Emma exclaimed, the connection made. She grabbed a startled Killian by the arm and hauled him out of the chair. "You haven't been everywhere _she's_ been though."

Killian's confusion was apparent as Emma took his hand and began to lead him to the door. "Give me your keys," she commanded. Without protest, Killian pulled them from his front pocket and pressed them into her hand. They left her building at a jog and hopped into the Jeep.

As they drove through the quiet streets, the sun beginning to peek through the trees, making everything glitter as its rays touched down on dewy grass and leaves, Emma looked over at Killian who looked beyond exhausted.

He met her gaze briefly and looked down into his lap. "I'm sorry, love. For dragging you out. And for not telling you everything before."

Emma reached over and took Killian's hand, running her thumb gently over the scars that divided his palm like a piece of abstract art. "I'm sorry, too. For not letting you explain. For lumping you in with every crappy person who's ever hurt me. It wasn't fair of me."

"Does this mean you forgive me?" he asked, the first sign of a smile tugging at his lips.

"Do you promise to never lie to me again?" she countered.

"Aye, lass. Pirate's honor."

"Good," she said giving his hand a squeeze.

Within another couple minutes, Emma pulled into the small parking area of the lakeside trails where she and Gale spent their afternoons. Killian dug around in the back seat and found some treats he had stashed in a container and shoved a handful in his pocket before they got out of the Jeep and took off down the trail.

"It's about a third of a mile up ahead," Emma informed Killian as they moved quickly through the woods. The adrenalin from the possibility of finding Gale was working better than Starbucks — not that they weren't going to stop there as soon as they could — and Emma led Killian off the main trail along the narrow path to her little beach.

Finally reaching the clearing, they saw Gale, curled up on Emma's favorite rock, her leash still attached.

"Galene!" Killian yelled as Emma watched him sprint ahead just as Gale jumped off the rock at the sound of his voice. The pair raced toward each other like a scene out of a movie or toilet paper commercial, which made Emma grin and wipe a tear — whether from happiness or laughter she wasn't sure. When Killian and Gale reached each other, he dropped to his knees and grabbed her collar with both hands.

"Oh you bloody dreadful girl! Need I remind you running off is bad form?" he laughed as he hugged her. Gale licked his face and wagged her whole body.

Emma caught up and kissed the top of Gale's head as she lowered down and joined them on the sand. "You are going to ruin my reputation as a dog trainer, you know," she warned, rubbing her nose against Gale's and getting a kiss in return.

Killian leaned back and reached into his pocket to pull out some of the treats he'd grabbed earlier. Sitting back on his heels, he showed her what was in his hand and said, "Sit."

As soon as her backside hit the ground, he tossed her a biscuit. "Stay, lass," he commanded then scooted closer to Emma and put his arm around her shoulders.

The grin on his face was contagious as he tipped her chin up with his finger to look into her eyes. Emma thought she would never tire of the way he looked at her and hoped she'd have lots of time with him to find out. Killian moved his hand to tangle in her hair as he whispered, "Thank you, Swan." Then he kissed her, first gently, but with increasing desire, and it wasn't long before Emma lost track of time in the feel of his clever lips and tongue, the stroke of his hands over her cheek, jaw, and hip, and sounds of their combined want and contentment.

Gale, however, tired of waiting in her "stay," flopped down at their feet, sending sand flying everywhere, then heaved a huge sigh.

Breaking off their kiss, amused at the clearly irritated and somewhat bored dog, Killian and Emma said in unison, "There's my good girl."


	8. Epilogue: Dog Days

**A/N: So here's the final bit of this story of Emma, Killian, and Gale. I've really appreciated all your feedback and kind words more than you know. I'm so glad a few of you enjoyed this enough to favorite, follow, and review regularly. As a thank you, I am going to start taking prompts for this AU. Feel free to message me here or on my tumblr account (I'm scapeartist there too) and I'll see if I can come up with some one-shots to fill in any gaps you think need filling. :) Again, thank you for reading! **

* * *

_**One year later...**_

Light was just beginning to ease into the darkness, turning the sky a steel gray and awakening every bird within earshot who felt the need to welcome the new day with a raucous song. Killian, who rarely slept in past 6am anyway, a habit he could never rid himself of after he left the Navy, wished for either a harmonious avian chorus or complete silence in place of the ruckus that kept him from slumber. This was entirely too early even for him, but, now that he was half-awake, apparently it was not too early for certain parts of him to stir.

Next to him, Emma shivered and pushed her back against Killian, which did absolutely not a damn thing to alleviate his biological urge to "rise" and shine. Trying not to jostle the bed too much, he shifted onto his side, inching closer to lay a soft kiss upon the small mole on Emma's left shoulder peeking out from the blanket. Ducking beneath the covers, he trailed whispery kisses along her arm to her elbow before nosing the hem of her tank top out of the way to expose the delectable curve of her hip. Emma sighed, sleep-soaked, and rolled over onto her back, giving him access to the smooth skin of her abdomen. Her fingers threaded through his hair, feather-light and lazy, each touch of her hand sending bolts of want zipping down his spine and fanning out through his body, driving him to crave more of her touch.

Mornings like this, when Killian could take his time loving Emma thoroughly at his leisure, were his favorites. He reveled in her body and the way she responded to him — the faint smirks that grew into unchecked grins when he found a spot that made her come alive in his arms, her unabashed passion when she turned the tables on him, the way she hummed and sighed and gasped, but most of all, he loved the way she said his name like it was the only word that mattered to her. Being with Emma was more than he ever imagined he deserved after Milah's death, and not a day went by that he was not grateful beyond measure for her.

Emma undulated beneath his mouth the lower he went her hitched breath and languid sighs just barely reaching his ears under the bedding. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of her panties and pulled them down her thighs and off her legs then kissed his way back up, paying close attention to that one sensitive patch of skin on her inner right thigh that made her tug his hair even as she opened her legs wider for him. The sounds that came from her were somewhere between a gasp and a laugh, which always managed to send his blood racing to his groin, forcing a low growl of his own in response. He reached under her top, ghosting over her rib cage, to caress the underside of her bare breast — the other ticklish place on her body — and was not disappointed when Emma huffed and twisted, pushing her breast into his waiting, open hand. Killian moved slowly, fingers rolling her nipple gently, as he inhaled her heady scent, ready to delve into her depths with his greedy tongue when she tapped a finger on his head.

_tap tap tap_

"What is it, love?" he asked, mouth hovering, waiting. "Do you have a particular request?" He loved when she told him what she wanted, but improvisation was not a problem either. As long as they were both satisfied, sweaty, and content by the end, the route to get there was superfluous. And usually damn sexy.

"We have company," Emma sounded somewhat amused if not muffled from where he was situated still under the blanket between her legs.

"I don't recall inviting anyone to this little soiree," he responded, cheekily.

"Seriously, you need to come see this."

Killian poked his head out from under the blanket to a lungful of fresh air he hadn't realized he needed. He held his body poised over Emma's — arms and knees on either side of her torso, his chest just brushing against hers — as she looked to her right, foolish grin on her face and laughter beginning to make her body twitch beneath him. He followed her gaze to see Gale, her head the only part of her visible as it rested on the mattress, looking at him with big, round, light-brown eyes.

"Bloody hell," he mumbled and rested his forehead on Emma's breastbone with a sigh. Looking back at the Black Lab, who hadn't moved nor taken her eyes from him, he said sternly, "Galene, we've talked about this. Just because I am moving about doesn't mean it's time to get up. Bad form. Now be a good girl and go back to bed."

Gale, without moving her head, shifted her eyes to Emma who just chuckled and said, "I know you are excited for today, sweet girl, but your dad's right. It's too early. Go back to bed."

With a defeated sigh, Gale turned and walked back over to her bed in the corner of the room next to Killian's bureau, turned three times, and harrumphed as she curled up into her doughnut shape with her back to them.

"Think we traumatized her?" Emma asked with mock concern.

"Bloody unlikely," Killian scoffed, arching an eyebrow to emphasize his point. "She's seen us doing far more...adventurous things than this, love. If she wasn't traumatized by that one time on the boat, I sincerely doubt this" he said, nodding at the lack of space between them before continuing on, "would cause permanent damage."

"True. At least she didn't knock me overboard after I had my wicked way with you," Emma added, waggling her eyebrows as she tapped the tip of her index finger on the tip of his nose.

Closing his eyes as if remembering the best meal he'd ever devoured, the thought of that particular tryst sent a wave of lust through him, setting a fire low in his belly and a faster beat to his heart. Killian dipped his head and kissed the coy smile right from her mouth, leaving them both breathless. Coming up for air with a perplexed look on his face, Killian pondered aloud, "Now...where was I before being so rudely interrupted?"

Emma answered by gripping Killian's shoulders and giving him a shove back under the covers.

~.~

**_Later that morning at a more decent hour..._**

"Come on! We're going to be late!" Emma yelled from the kitchen. She knew she shouldn't have let Killian sleep off this morning's "soiree," but she was going to need his full attention for the rest of the day, and being a little late was better than having him be petulant and tired for the afternoon.

"Aye, I'm coming! I'm coming!" Killian yelled back from the bathroom. "Is Gale ready?" he added.

"Did you miss that whole thing this morning with her being up at the ass-crack of dawn ready to go?" Emma asked sarcastically, peeking her head in the doorway.

Killian looked delicious in his olive green shorts and black, short-sleeved t-shirt, his pirate necklace resting in the v of the neckline. She was so happy when he stopped wearing long sleeves around her, trying to cover up his scars. His arms were firm, perfectly sculpted, and deeply tanned from spending so much time working on the boat, and hiding them was an absolute crime. That he was finally comfortable enough with her and the scars climbing up his forearm from his hand, meant a lot to her. She couldn't lie: watching his arms in motion turned her on like few things could. She loved to grab on to his solid bicep as he held himself above her when they were in bed together, or trace the ripple his muscles made when he picked her up and flung her over his shoulder when he was feeling particularly frisky. Even something so mundane as drying his hands on a towel made her stomach clench with every flex and stretch of movement.

He must have read her thoughts because Killian sidled up to her, minty fresh breath tickling her cheek as he whispered his answer in her ear, "Mmm...I was a bit..._distracted_ at the time though." Caressing her hip and sending a shudder through her, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her neck beneath her earlobe. _If we weren't already late..._

Giggling as she pushed him away, she reminded him, "We told David we'd get there before they opened to the general public. I don't want to keep him. Gale's in the Jeep. We're just waiting on you."

Nodding, Killian followed Emma out of the bathroom to the kitchen where he grabbed his coffee for the road. "Sure you've got everything, love?" he asked, checking one more time.

Emma stood holding the door open, urgently motioning for Killian to pass through. "Yes, yes. It's all out in the Jeep. Now let's go before David changes his mind."

Ten minutes of speeding and barely squeaking through yellow lights later, they pulled into the parking lot of the shelter where David was waiting for them behind the locked door of the training room. He reached down and scooped something up from the floor before unlocking and opening the door for Killian, Emma, and Gale. Emma was carrying a new lead and cornflower blue collar gathered up in her hand, and some treats in a special pouch she used for training.

The little ball of sunshiney wiggle in David's hand nearly took a nose dive when she saw Gale trot through the door. He let her down gently so she could tumble after Gale, who paid no mind to her as she sniffed around the room, probably catching up on who'd been in since the last time she and Emma were there for a class. Emma was really happy to see Gale giving the new kid some space to see how she would engage her. Gale was one of the most "bomb-proof" and stable dogs she knew, and Emma was so grateful that they would be raising this new puppy together; Emma to teach her manners around people, and Gale to teach her proper dog etiquette.

David shook Killian's hand, thumping him on the shoulder at the same time, then gave Emma a half-hug around her shoulders and asked, "Sure you're ready for this?"

"You have to ask, mate?" Killian laughed incredulously.

This puppy was going to be Emma's first dog and she was trying to contain herself to be the professional, somewhat jaded, blasé, dog trainer, but her nervous heart was pounding at the thought of getting to raise a dog from a puppy. She'd seen so many of the dogs she trained turn out well and she wanted that same experience for herself. To prove that she was not just a teacher, but someone who could do it, too. She could have eventually gotten a dog without Killian, but since they moved in together a few months ago, things were stable enough in their lives that he brought up the idea of her getting a dog first. He tried putting it under the guise of Gale needing a friend, but Emma knew he'd caught her more than once looking wistfully at the two of them and their close bond. Even though Emma and Gale shared a special bond, at her heart and soul, Gale was Killian's dog. So when David called to let them know there was a pregnant dog with a fantastic disposition at the shelter, Emma spent her free time getting to know the mom and then the pups after they were born. When she met this little girl, Emma just knew she was the one. That last piece of the puzzle of her life snapped into place and everything she'd ever thought she couldn't have was now within her grasp and she didn't want to let go.

The three humans all stood in a cluster off to the side, watching the two canines interact. The puppy — a nine-week-old yellow Lab and Husky mix with ears that weren't as long or floppy as a Lab's, and eyes a piercing blue a shade or two lighter than Killian's — ran up to Gale who looked down at her imperiously at first, but then leaned down, sniffing the little thing from tail to head. When they were finally nose-to-nose, the cream-colored girl licked at Gale's black snout until Gale decided enough homage had been paid and it was time to move on.

Gale must have spotted one of the toys David had out to keep the puppy occupied until Emma and Killian arrived, because she walked over and picked up a knotted, fleece tug toy at its tennis-ball end and began to trail the soft, colorful braid behind her. That was all the invitation the puppy needed as she tripped over herself trying to catch up to Gale.

David, Emma, and Killian couldn't help but laugh as the puppy righted herself and finally grabbed onto the other end of the toy. Her not-yet-ferocious growl was far from intimidating as she tried to pull the toy away from Gale, who let her tug on it as much as she wanted without budging. Frustrated she hadn't bested the big black dog yet, the puppy dropped her end and gave Gale a short series of barks, which Gale turned away from, ignoring her. Taking the toy, Gale walked away to another part of the room to gnaw on the ball. Undeterred, the puppy chased her and nipped Gale on the leg.

Emma wanted to clap when Gale picked up the puppy by her scruff and deposited her into a different part of the room before returning to the toy by herself. Confused, the puppy looked around at everyone then made a beeline for Gale again who was pointedly not looking at her. It wasn't until the pup sat down quietly in front of Gale that Gale gave her any attention. The stubby little tail on the pup was swishing all over the place as Gale licked the puppy across the top of her head, right along the lighter colored stripe that ran up from her snout, until the little thing lost her balance and flopped over.

Emma hunkered down and lured the puppy's attention away from Gale with the promise of treats. Sniffing the air, she waddled over to Emma — Gale trailing along behind the pup, pretending not to be interested, but sniffing the whole way, too. Feeding her a tiny piece of hot dog, Emma picked her up for a cuddle in between wriggles and playful swipes at Emma's fingers with paws that predicted she would grow into a dog at least Gale's size if not a little bigger. Killian leaned over Emma's shoulder, getting a closer look at their new addition, rubbing that lighter patch of fur between the little pup's bright blue eyes, causing them to softly close at the rhythm he'd taken up.

"Did you pick a name yet?" David asked.

Both Emma and Killian smiled down at the puppy who had settled finally. "Euphrosyne," Killian said the same time Emma said, "Joy." Green eyes snapped up to meet blue before both sets rolled in irritation at the other. David snickered under his hand resulting in a glare from Emma.

When she had first told Killian she wanted to name the dog Joy, he'd lobbied for the Greek Goddess' name immediately. Emma brushed it off thinking he was just trying to get a rise out of her. Apparently not.

Killian gestured to the now dozing puppy on her back in Emma's arms, her pale, downy, pot belly rising and falling gently with each breath. "They mean the same thing. Euphrosyne is the Greek Goddess of Joy," he explained to David.

Emma snorted. "What am I supposed to call her, 'Frozen' for short?! I mean seriously, Killian. We talked about this. Can't she just have a normal name?"

"Galene is named for a goddess, I think it only fair to name this one after a goddess as well. Can't be playing favorites, love," he warned as Gale came to him as soon as he said her name. He instinctively reached down to stroke Gale's head and ears as she leaned against his leg like she was prone to do when they were together. His eyes twinkled and Emma knew she couldn't resist him or the damn name. Why shouldn't she have a goddess too?

"Fine," Emma conceded, giving Killian a gentle hip-check at his smug look. "But it's your fault when things go all _Clash of the Titans_ at home."

"You do know I'm going to name my next dog Zeus just to out-God you guys, right?" David remarked.

"Well, mate, you better start winning at the Council meetings or you won't be able to afford your next meal, never mind another dog," Killian teased.

David opened his mouth to no doubt refute Killian with a jab of his own, but Emma just wanted to go home with their new girl.

"All right, all right, you two. Save it," she interrupted. The puppy had barely stirred amidst the tiff and instead let out an airy snore as she snuggled closer to Emma's chest, content and radiating a peacefulness that soothed Emma, too. "If you insist on that unpronounceable name, I'm going to call her 'Zen' for short."

"As you wish, darling." Killian said, meeting her eyes with a smile before kissing her temple. "Zen it is."

**~Fin~**


	9. Doggone It (Prompt Request)

**So, the prompt filling has begun. This was requested as part of the "Send me a pairing and a line of dialogue and I'll write you something angsty" meme on Tumblr. The line to include was: "Shit, are you bleeding?!" and the pairing was Killian and Emma from Sit, Stay, Feel. This part would fit somewhere in chapter 6.**

**Warning for minor bodily injury but nothing serious. Also, angst.**

* * *

That night's puppy class had been comical _and_ challenging. Damn near all of the owners wanted their sweet, gangly, still-easily-distracted dogs to be learning tricks that took Gale _months_ to master, so the conversation kept getting derailed into more advanced topics and demos that no one — human or canine — was actually prepared for no matter how many times Emma warned them or tried to steer the class back to the basics they were barely having success with two weeks into class.

Still, they ganged up and requested a demo for teaching tricks like Killian's "hit the deck" command, so Emma indulged them to try make a point about their lack of skills. Even poor Gale was worn out by the end, having gone through every phase of teaching the complicated command, and Killian could see her execution was slow and she was bored. Luckily time ran out before anyone could ask for another demo he was sure Emma would have shot down anyway, and rightfully so.

As the last student filed out, tired puppy in tow, Killian and Emma both let out a loud sigh and then a laugh at their shared relief. Killian was itching to be alone with Emma away from the shelter, and Gale followed him around as he quickly cleaned up the room while Emma gathered up her belongings so the three of them could get the hell out of there. He had offered to make dinner this time since Emma bought them pizza last week. He had everything ready, including a nice red wine from a local vineyard to go with their burgers. Killian wanted nothing more than to hang out on the back deck with Emma and Gale and enjoy the clear, star-filled sky and warm summer evening. There were only a couple more days before he had to fly out of town and he needed to take his mind off the blasted trip.

When they returned to Killian's house, he settled Emma into the cushioned chaise on the deck and started a blaze in the spaceship looking fireplace he had picked up over the weekend for just such an occasion. It would double as a grill to cook their burgers on and maybe roast some marshmallows over too. Emma looked content as she shared the lounge with Gale, the two of them resting with their eyes closed, Emma's long fingers scratching and stroking Gale's ears as she snuggled up, her head on Emma's stomach. Killian smiled longingly at the picture of bliss they made, wanting to squeeze in behind Emma to hold them both, but went inside to get the rest of their dinner together instead. First, though, he grabbed a couple of wine glasses and the bottle of wine from the counter to pour a generous helping in each. God knew they both could use it.

Killian popped the cork from the long, curved neck of the emerald green bottle and took a deep inhale of the dark, velvety bouquet, the slightest hint of blackberry making his mouth water. He loved the summer and all its thick, heady, scents— the flowers, grass, fruit, even the ocean and its occasional red tide — getting lost in the intensity of them was his favorite passive hobby. Holding the glass cradled in his left hand, the delicate stem between his middle fingers, Killian tipped the glass and poured the wine into the rounded goblet.

Not halfway through the pour, his left hand spasmed, causing him to grip the glass too hard, too quickly, and he broke it, the shards crashing to the floor along with a small cascade of the deep purple wine. The immediate sting of alcohol in the fresh cuts and divots drew a sharp breath from him as the pain rolled up his arm.

"Bloody hell!" he exclaimed, shaking his hand of both wine and glass. _Fucking hand. Bloody fucking __**useless**__ hand._

Killian leaned against the counter, rubbing his clean hand over his face as he held the other, dripping hand, away from his body like it was something to be shunned and driven away. He gritted his teeth and took a deep breath, closing his eyes to try to collect himself and shove down the rising tide of anger making its way to the surface. His hand was never going to be 100% — he'd had too many surgeries and there was too much damage that all the physical therapy in the world couldn't restore — but it never failed to catch him off-guard when it didn't work properly. Most of the time he was careful how he used that hand, but tonight he'd forgotten and felt whole for a change. He wouldn't make that mistake again.

"Shit, are you bleeding?!" Emma gasped from the doorway. Her eyes were wide and fixed on his hand. Gale was just trotting up behind her to see what all the fuss was about.

"No, no, no, no, Gale. Stay," he commanded holding his uninjured hand up to stop her from entering the kitchen. "Emma, don't let her in, there's glass all over the floor. I don't want her to cut up her paws, please."

"Of course," Emma agreed. She turned to Gale and shooed her back out into the yard before coming back into the kitchen, closing the door behind her. "Are you ok?" she asked, the concerned look on her face making him uneasy.

Killian looked away from her and back down to his hand which had a few small chunks of glass imbedded in his palm, but thankfully not too deeply. Just surface damage. He began gingerly picking them out and tossing the bits into the sink. "I'm fine, love," he muttered.

Emma skirted around the majority of the mess on the floor to stand before Killian, her own hand outstretched and reaching for his. As her fingers brushed the back of his wine-sticky hand she said, "Here, let me."

"_No!_" Killian all but shouted as he pulled his hand in close to his chest protectively. Emma stepped back in surprise, her eyes snapping up to his with a mixture of hurt and shock. Killian gave her a sad smile and shook his head. "Sorry, lass. I can take care of it myself. Really," he assured her holding up his palm so she could see the damage a little better. He grimaced briefly as he looked at it himself. "See? Barely even a cut, and I'm sure the wine took care of cleaning everything out," he concluded.

Emma looked at him skeptically and dropped her hands to her sides. She glanced at the floor and asked, "Can I at least help clean up the glass?"

"No, darling, but thank you. I just wanted you to have a nice relaxing evening after working so hard. I can handle this mess. It is of my own making, after all," he said. Emma was just about to speak when Killian interrupted her. With his good hand, Killian reached over to the counter and handed her the other wine glass and then the bottle. "Take those and go back out on the deck with Gale. I'll get this all ship-shape and join you in a few minutes. Really. It's ok."

Standing there considering him, Emma was rooted to her spot. He could see she wanted to help, but he wasn't ready to talk to her about what would inevitably amount to just another scar that would go unnoticed amongst the many already marring his skin.

He gave her a smile he'd hoped she wouldn't see through and waved her away. "Go on, go relax with Galene. You've earned it. The wine is one of my summer favorites, so please go enjoy it," he pleaded.

Reluctantly Emma turned from him and headed toward the back door, glass and bottle in hand. With one last glimpse at Killian, Emma said over her shoulder, "Don't be long, ok?"

"Aye, love," he answered. As soon as he was sure Emma was back on the deck, Killian turned and punched the calendar and its red, coarsely circled date. _Only two more days._


	10. Lie Down With Dogs (Prompt Request)

**(Prompt Request 2) Emma and Gale are enjoying their girl's weekend when Emma gets an unwelcome phone call.**

**The prompt requested was "Please, put it DOWN." with Emma and Gale in Sit, Stay, Feel from the "Send me a pairing and a line of dialogue and I'll write you something angsty" meme on Tumblr. This takes place during chapter 6 of Sit, Stay, Feel and is from Emma's POV.**

* * *

With Killian in the middle of his trip, Emma and Gale's "girl's weekend" was in full swing. They'd hung out that first night, snuggled up on the couch, indulging in some snacks he'd left for them (chocolate chip ice cream for Emma and blueberry Yoghund for Gale), while marathoning episodes of _White Collar_ Killian had stored on his DVR. Emma's newfound appreciation for the dark hair/light blue eyes/rakish smile combo overrode the distaste at hearing the similarity between Neal Caffrey's name and her ex's, and Gale seemed to have a thing for Satchmo, Peter's yellow Lab, so they were both ultimately happy. Although Emma was pretty sure they'd both be a bit happier with Killian there sharing the couch with them. It'd been less than 12 hours since he left, and less than a minute since she thought of their kiss, and she missed him. Gale sighed in unison with her, making Emma wonder if she was part mind reader or just pined for Satchmo.

After the best night's sleep she'd had in quite some time in that cozy guest room of Killian's, Gale tucked into her side the whole night, the two went for a long hike first thing in the morning after coffee and breakfast. It was a beautiful, clear start to the day before the prickling heat of summer became stifling and they would have to retreat to the comfort of Killian's central A/C. Gale made some new friends along their journey, Jamm (an Aussie Shepherd) and Vida (a Rottie), whom she companionably romped through the woods with, while Emma chatted with their parents. They ascended the hill at a leisurely pace to one of Emma's favorite views of the small mountains off in the distance in one direction and the ocean she'd recently come to appreciate, in the other. While she cherished the privacy of their little beach, sometimes she needed to take in the vastness of the world around her, too. Give her some perspective. As much as she loved getting to spend so much time with Gale pretending to be her parent, she was counting down the hours until Killian came home, because truth be told, she'd rather be sharing this view with him.

Just shy of lunchtime, when they returned to Gale's house, Emma could hear the house phone ringing as she was putting her key in the kitchen door lock. As soon as she heard the slide of the bolt back into its casing, she threw the door open and raced to the phone which was luckily on the counter near Gale's food. Emma hit the "talk" button with a breathless, "Hello?!" and waited to hear who was on the other end, part of her hoping it was Killian. Sometimes the cell reception on the trails was spotty and she might have missed his call.

Gale trotted past, heading straight for her box of toys in the living room and returned with her favorite squeaky duck, no doubt hoping for her regular game of "someone's home lets play keep away." They'd played the afternoon before right after Killian left — running all over the house, around the couch and chairs, through the bedrooms and even out into the back yard, taking turns being the chaser and chasee, stopping now and again to play tug until Emma heard the tear of stitches in the wing of the poor, already tattered stuffed duck and stopped the game. Gale looked more than ready to resume the fun.

Emma ignored Gale for the moment, listening to the person on the other end of the line — a Dr. Hopper — who was from some prison out-of-state and looking for Killian who wasn't answering his cell. A panicked buzzing started in Emma's ears and she just barely made out what he was saying as she tried to take notes over the din. Something about counseling. _Why would he need counseling at a prison?_ She took Dr. Hopper's number and assured him the message would be delivered if she (ever) heard from Killian (again). Hanging up the phone, Emma stood there, her hand holding the piece of paper trembling, and all thoughts suspended in her brain.

_Squeak…_

Emma looked up to see Gale standing across from her, duck hanging from her jaw. _Squeak…._

"Not now, Gale," she said, voice trembling to match her hand.

_Squeak…squeak…._

Emma's temper began to get the better of her as the noise from the duck grated on her nerves as it clashed with the buzzing she couldn't clear out. "Please, put it DOWN," she commanded through her gritted teeth.

Gale lay on the floor at the word "down," but the duck stayed in her mouth. _Squeak…_

Taking a deep breath, Emma revised her request. "Gale, drop it. Leave it."

Slowly, Gale deposited the duck to the floor by her paws and looked up at Emma, head tilted, waiting.

"Not now," was all Emma could get out. Her mind had resumed racing, thoughts and scenarios tumbling over each other, none of them good. He told her it was a business trip. _Had he lied? What the hell did prison have to do with it? Was he checking up on her past? Oh, God…she'd kissed him and he'd lied to her. How could she be so naive…so trusting?_ He was gone and she had no idea if she'd see him again. The bile rose in her throat and Emma felt dizzy. She stumbled to the couch, message still clutched in her hand, and collapsed there. Gale quietly hopped up next to Emma and curled up to rest her head on Emma's lap just as the first tears began falling from her eyes.


End file.
